TBDH: STRAIGHT Version
by Scioneeris
Summary: NOT SLASH! Threesome/Moresome. AU!creature!sub!Harry gains a dragon-like creature inheritance over his sixteenth birthday. Shortly afterwards, Harry finds that he can't access his magic anymore. Elemental magic? Dragons? Check. Welcome to a world of complications. MJ/HP/Others
1. An Inheritance Most Painful

**Timeframe:**

Sixth Year at Hogwarts-1996.

**Summary:**

Harry inherits a creature "thing" from both sides of his parents, somehow that leads to weird sleeping habits, conversations with Megan Jones in Hufflepuff and finding himself caught up in a world of Dragons, elemental powers and a new creatures he's never heard of before. Features a **SUBMISSIVE HARRY CREATURE**

**Pairings: (at present)  
><strong>

Harry Potter x Megan Jones x OFCs x Harry's future bonded.

Draco Malfoy x OMC x OFC x Severus Snape

Hermione x OMC

**Disclaimer: **

I do not own any Harry Potter anything. That belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just like playing with Harry in my own little world of storyville. I make no money by writing this fanfiction. All original characters are my own.

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes: **creature!Harry fic. I'm taking as many liberties as I can get away with-it is AU after all. (things like Cho being in the same year as Harry, etc) Updates are based on what I have written and when I have time to update. I am a busy **working professional and I don't have time for little whiny rants about why this is a Sub!Hary fic or why I'm using Megan Jones. If you can read, then you should have seen this warning and spared yourself the distress.**

If you need to read a Dom!Harry, check out "Death asked Nicely" 

If you want more diversity, see Bisexual!Harry in "TBDH: Twin Terrors" 

This fic is due to requests for a straight version of my slash fic "There be Dragons, Harry" currently at about 800,000 words and a few thousand reviews. Major changes happen around chapter 13 and the similarities to the original will end there. I apologize if some of the slashy bits kind of seep over, in the first few chapters, but the rest of the fic is new content and therefore, shouldn't be an issue. I appreciate folks who can politely let me know what works and what doesn't.

This is a STORY, it is FICTION. I am aware that this is a horribly angsty and extremely complicated fic. If you don't like it, don't read it. I'm not twisting your arm. Go find something else and don't ruin it for other folks.

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><p><strong>WARNINGS: <strong>Mature themes. Contains mentions of slash(m/m), moments/mentions of femslash(f/f), and Het (m/f). Scenes are not explicit as per FF guidelines. There will be slight hints of citrus and implied lemons. Use of Blood as a magical medium in generous portions. D/s and S&M Themes. Possible gore/torture in future chapters. Angst. Fluff. Perpetual Mystery. Abuse. Mpreg. Suicide. OC's. OOCness. Dark characters. Mentions of Death and Necromancy. Very AU. Other warnings will be added as I see fit.

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><p><strong>There will be NO HarryGinny, Hermione, Cho or Fleur with this one! Please do not ask.**

**Story starts slow and will pick up the pace in future chapters.**

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><p><strong>READ THE WARNINGS!<br>**

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><p>The pains started shortly after his birthday.<p>

Harry remembered staring at the clock and feeling absolutely nothing when the numbers flickered over to what they ought to be. It had been a horrible day. The worst birthday yet—and the worst summer he'd spent at the Dursley's so far. Today hadn't been any exception. There hadn't been any reason for it to be.

A shudder wracked his body as he lay sprawled on his stomach, fighting to control his breathing in even, slow draws. It wasn't helping at all. He felt completely helpless and dirty.

Everything had just gone all wrong since he'd returned this year. A tremor wriggled through him and Harry clenched his teeth together, tight. A sudden wave of pain washed over him, once, twice and then a third time.

His thoughts and musings went elsewhere as Harry felt himself slipping into a looming blackness. He only remembered a few precious moments of sanity—and then the real pain began.

At first, he thought it might drive him mindless, but that thought flew out the window when he distracted himself by recounting every single painful incident that had ever happened to him in the course of the few years he'd been alive.

Well, granted, sixteen years wasn't really a few—but it was the principle of the thing.

Harry drifted in and out of the painful haze, writhing, twisting and screaming, though it seemed as if his screams went unheard. No one came—and no one complained either. Harry felt himself grow weak as his throat ached and his voice grew hoarse with all the screaming.

The pain was worse than even the Cruciatus curse several times over and Harry could remember that moment all too well.

At some point, he exhausted himself, physically—there was simply no strength left within him to lift his limbs and it seemed as if even thinking hurt his very being. His magic waned and dribbled away and Harry was helpless to stop it from leaving.

He felt a terrible coldness seep into him and then, a sudden, striking emptiness.

It was gone.

There was nothing left.

His mind was too befuddled to properly process that, but it didn't stop more tears from welling up in his already burning eyes and leaking onto the tangled sheets. He snuffled into the thin covers of his bed and that was it.

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><p>When Harry woke the next morning, the night's events felt like a distant dream.<p>

Attempting to rouse himself from the awkward position of half-on and half-off the bed, tangled up in the sheets, Harry discovered just how distant that particular dream was.

A whimper sounded as he tumbled to the floor and somehow managed to spring up on shaky hands and knees, when his body collided painfully with the wooden floor. The sudden movements did nothing to ease his discomfort and after several moments of careful shifting, Harry gingerly stretched upwards to his feet.

He made it about halfway to his bedroom door before the pain grew too much and he collapsed on the cold, wooden floor and blacked out.

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><p>When Harry woke again, he wasn't sure how much time had passed. He was relieved to find that his body no longer protested every movement or thought and doubly happy to note that there was practically no pain left at all.<p>

He yawned and stretched up from the floor and found himself making up the bed before the rest of his sleep-fogged mind caught up to him. It was cold in the room and he wasn't wearing anything.

A scowl presented itself and Harry rummaged around to find a new shirt, shorts and pants. He found socks last and slowly put them on, wondering what had happened to his pajamas during the night. He'd seen a few small scraps of fabric as he'd made up the bed, but nothing big enough to verify that it had been his pajamas.

He sighed. An urge to hurry to the bathroom made itself known and he padded over to the door and tested the knob. Maybe he'd be lucky today and somehow they wouldn't have locked him in.

Luck smiled for him.

The locks were open and he pushed the door out, stepping into the hall. It seemed about midday, if his guess was accurate and Harry made his way to the bathroom, listening carefully for any sound from the Dursley's.

He heard none.

Pushing away the strangeness of that reality, Harry continued on with one goal in mind. Bathroom.

He slipped into the bathroom, feeling rather smug with himself and went about his morning business. He stood in front of the sink, washing his hands when he finally caught sight of his face.

He wasn't wearing his glasses.

Bright green eyes stared back at him.

Green eyes with black-cat-like, slit pupils.

Harry choked.

The garbled, strangled sound seemed stuck in his throat and Harry bent to splash several handfuls of cold water on his face.

Surely he was sleepwalking or dreaming.

When he surfaced again, the reflection hadn't changed.

In fact, Harry was sure he could see even more changes now.

His creamy skin was even paler than he remembered and his messy hair now curled at the tips. His ears were now slightly pointed and a pale silver-peach tint seemed to run all along them. He reached up, tentatively stroking the colors, shocked when his fingers touched, cool, small scales.

They were icy to the touch and they rippled as he stroked them, first one ear and then the other. Panic nearly set in, but as Harry began to worry—the scales faded into his skin right before his eyes.

Harry ripped off his shirt and stared.

The familiar battery of scars and bruises—Uncle Vernon's weekly present—were gone. Even the few scars he'd accumulated thanks to Voldemort, were conspicuously absent.

Harry swallowed. He was, by no means, a vain person, but a certain thrill ran through him as he took in the smooth, unblemished skin. He'd wondered a few times, what it would be like to look normal—normal as a regular teenage boy without battle scars and other injuries.

He admired himself for a minute, before he realized the soft, silvery-white glow that came to his skin. Careful examination showed that he had the same silver-peach scales decorating his sides. As he focused on them, the scales grew more prominent and he could see how well they covered his body.

From the tops of his shoulders, his arms and then the sides of his torso and his back and then they disappeared into the waistline made by his pants. Harry hummed to himself as he shimmied out of the rest of his clothes to see what other secrets his body had to show him.

There was a maze of tattoos down his back. It was as if someone had simply decided to trace an entire set of swirls, circles and knots all across his body, ending in a pointed swirl right above his tailbone and never reaching the tops of his shoulders or the more colorful scales on the sides of his torso.

A pleased sound rumbled in his throat and Harry found himself smiling at his reflection.

A smile that melted away to a look of horror when he realized that a fine smattering of colored scales now decorated the sides of his face and neck and his hands had turned into strong, pointed, claws.

The squeak that left his lips was quite undignified, but Harry was too startled to speak. No sooner had he realized the reality of his claws, before he felt his feet curl and then his socks were shredded away and Harry realized that even his feet had morphed to show the powerful claws.

Twin strips of fire ran up and down his back, along his shoulder blades and then a muffled cry drew Harry's attention back to the mirror.

He stared in awe.

Two large, scaled wings had burst from his back and the last traces of any human skin had been swiftly covered by the silver-peach tinted scales. The wings were bloody and wrinkled, and instinctively, Harry worked to pull them close to him and to stretch and soothe the appendages.

He found himself slipping into a strange sort of daze as he took a shower without a single thought as to what his dear Aunt Petunia would think if she knew 'the freak' was using her precious bathroom.

He took his time with the shower, washing his wings and his entire body. When the shower was over, he toweled himself dry with a the softest specimen he could find.

Aunt Petunia would certainly throw a fit. He snickered and continued his careful toweling.

The very process seemed to do wonders for the winged appendages as he was able to spread them almost entirely. They remained painfully sensitive and it wasn't until Harry worried how he'd hide them that he saw them shrink and recede into his back, amidst the tangle of moving tattoos.

Moving tattoos.

Harry stifled a moan as he felt a flicker of himself return. Strange things always happened to him. If he didn't know better, he'd think he was turning into some dragon-wizard hybrid.

A twinge of unease registered at that and Harry hurriedly dressed and retreated to his room. He was puzzled by the strange emptiness of the house and the distinct lack of noise. His curiosity got the better of him and Harry went downstairs to investigate—after checking the driveway from his window.

It seemed as if the Dursley's had gone out.

Where, Harry didn't know and quite frankly, didn't really care.

They'd left him—though that was nothing new—and he was hungry!

In a sudden fit of near rebellion, he yanked open the fridge and began to pull out items at random. He made himself a sandwich of sorts, before his stomach gave an impressive rumble and Harry found himself sitting at the table, gorging himself on the raw meat from the fridge.

By the time he caught up with his actions, the deliciously full sensation of his stomach swiftly overrode any thoughts of disgust and repulsion. Harry then meticulously cleaned up the mess he'd made and went upstairs again.

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><p><strong>AN as of 8-01-2014 : I am no longer answering reviews for this fic, I don't have the time. If you need a reply to your review, you may state so within the review with a simple "could you please answer my review/thanks" and _if/when_ I have a chance, I will PM you. Thank you for understanding.**


	2. Trainride Thoughts

**See chapter 1 for warnings/disclaimers/summaries.**

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><p><em>PREVIOUSLY:<em>

_In a sudden fit of near rebellion, he yanked open the fridge and began to pull out items at random. He made himself a sandwich of sorts, before his stomach gave an impressive rumble and Harry found himself sitting at the table, gorging himself on the raw meat from the fridge._

_By the time he caught up with his actions, the deliciously full sensation of his stomach swiftly overrode any thoughts of disgust and repulsion. Harry then meticulously cleaned up the mess he'd made and went upstairs again._

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><p>He took another shower—just because he could—and retreated upstairs to his room. Hedwig appeared at that point and Harry opened the window to let her in. She nipped his fingers affectionately and stuck out one foot bearing shrunken parcels.<p>

He took the parcel and carried her to the perch on his desk. It took a moment to fill her cage with water and food and she hooted her approval as he went to investigate what she'd brought.

Harry eagerly dug into the packages to find a letter from The Burrow and a box of delicious foodstuffs. He nibbled on a few things, glad to see that Mrs. Weasley had cast a standard preservation charm over the goods and then settled down on his bed to read the only letter.

He'd felt a little down that Ron and Hermione hadn't written as they usually would have, but he pushed those thoughts away as he realized that nearly everyone at The Burrow had had a hand in writing his 'birthday letter'. He could make out the scrawls of Ron and Ginny, along with Hermione's neat print and the Twins wrote in the same way they spoke and Harry found himself simultaneously laughing and crying as he folded up the parchment.

He missed them!

He missed them all so much it hurt.

He learned that it had been nearly two weeks since his birthday and that Hermione had his present and would give it to him at school. Ron explained that they'd sent owls only to have them return.

They'd worried and spoken to Dumbledore, who had assured them that Harry was fine as far as he could tell.

Harry wondered how he knew, but pushed that thought away for later perusal as well. He eventually ate some more and hunkered down for bed. It was early in the afternoon, but he could feel his body beginning to shut down.

His mind was wide awake however and so Harry forced himself to think and chose a sensible course of action.

Reading.

Of course. He thought, wryly. That would help. He rummaged through the textbooks in his trunk and the few gifted books from Hermione. He searched and was relieved to find one on Magical Creatures—courtesy of Hagrid's class.

"How lucky." He muttered, flopping back onto the bed and cracking the book open.

He skimmed through the pages, having searched the index for 'dragons'. A slight hitch caught in his throat as Harry found several entries under "D" with reference to dragons. He read through the first three, Dragons, Dragoones, Drakken's and finally, Dragel's—an entry marked with an asterisk. He wondered why as he traced his finger to the page number and flipped to the necessary chapter.

The words seemed to swim before his eyes and Harry found himself reading with the feeling in his stomach growing worse with every line.

_Dragel's are an extinct breed of a humanoid-elemental-dragon hybrid. Believed to be the result of a triad bonding between a powerful wizard, a Saurdahn warrior and an equally powerful and sentient dragon from one of the four elemental clans. The four elemental dragon clans have been hunted to extinction shortly after closing themselves off from wizarding and human society. _

_It is believed that the magical spirits left behind by these powerful creatures are the roots of all elemental powers today. Dragel's were considered to be powerful and beautiful creatures of grace and lethal skill. Often in a human form, Dragel's have anywhere from four to six alternate forms and a true form, which shows their complete dragon self. _

_In their true form, a Dragel's massive physical size and magical power poses a severe threat and as such, the Ministry of Magic forbade them to appear in their true forms. When such measures were protested, Dragel's were consequently classified as magical creatures and treated as such, in spite of their attributed power and intelligence. Dragel's are known for manipulation of wild magic—untamed, raw, magical power. Their ability to harness and control it made them targets for power-hungry poachers and political parties, as a Dragel's life is stake on honor and loyalty. _

_Dragel's are fiercely protective of their circles—immediate family and friends—and will gladly sacrifice anything to keep their circles safe and sound. and during the earliest history of wizarding wars, Dragel's were excused from combat due to the potentially unlimited amount of destruction they could cause in their true forms. As Dragel's are loyal to their own kind, they refuse to fight with each other, unless there are no other options or their nature deems otherwise. _

_Dragel scales, hairs, fluids and organs are invaluable in potions and rituals, particularly Blood Magic, due to the residual magical energy that resides within them. Dragel's are considered to be borderline dark creatures and it is speculated that it is the sole reason they were hunted to extinction. There are several specimens on display in the Magical Museum of History. Dragels remain as creatures of legend and are often used in children's fairytales. _

_Dragels use circles to classify their mateships. There is always a minimum of three, an Alpha dominant, a Beta dominant and a submissive Bearer, to produce young. A mateship is initiated by the submissive, who emits a call of a certain intensity. A heartcry will summon potential mates and a soulcry will summon soulmates. Elaborate courting rituals vary by elemental clan and there are four stages beginning with a courtship, an engagement period, and a bonding , following by the mating. A mateship is formed based on the potential elements in a submissive and the intensity of the submissive's magical signature. _

_The largest known mateship was twenty-seven bonded which produced twelve Dragel children. There are no other details on this Dragel circle. Dragels are very affectionate and colorful creatures. Unmated Dragels can become extremely dangerous and depressed if they do not find suitable mates. They thrive and feed on the love and approval of their circle and the lack of such closeness can cause many issues. _

_If an important mate dies, the entire circle will mourn and all scales turn black for a period of time. If a disobedient mate is disowned or banished, Dragels will attempt to remove the mating mark given to them at the expense of their own life. _

_Dragels grew to be fragile creatures during their final years of existence. It is said that this weakness is what caused their extinction. They are still regarded as legendary creatures. _

Harry stared at the pages.

It could almost sound right and perfect, except for—extinction?

Harry shuddered.

He didn't even want to think about this.

He really didn't want to think about it.

So he didn't.

By the time September came around, Harry was back to his almost normal self. He learned that the Dursley's had gone on vacation when he hadn't come out of his room for a week and Uncle Vernon couldn't get in, so they'd simply left.

They'd returned a week before school had started and had been shocked, surprised and outraged to learn that he was alive.

Harry hadn't cared a whit.

He'd just wanted to get to Hogwarts and to their library. He'd also learned that he was most likely a Dragel, extinct or not and he'd have to start being a little more careful until he could get his hands on the necessary vital information.

Amidst the yells and shouts of his relatives, he'd hissed at them that all he needed was a ride to King's Crossing and that he wouldn't be back the next year.

That had quieted them—temporarily.

Harry sat scrunched up in the backseat as they drove to the train station. He'd let Hedwig out and knew she would find him when he got to Hogwarts. He was trying to keep as far away from Dudley as possible—the boy kept poking, pinching and prodding him—and concentrate on school.

When they reached the station, Harry hauled his stuff out as quickly as he could, grateful for the extra touch of strength his new self had granted him. He didn't look back as he plunged into the crowds at the station and aimed for platform 9 ¾ .

He didn't see Ron or Hermione—strangely enough—and when he got on board the Hogwarts Express, he shuffled all the way down to his usual compartment, only to find that everywhere was full—well, at least all the usual Gryffindor compartments were full. It didn't miss his attention that most of the students this year were rather subdued. Many of them were reading the Daily Prophet and a few spoke in whispers when he passed.

Harry wondered what he'd missed, but he didn't dare ask. Something didn't feel right about asking.

Biting his lip, Harry pressed onwards towards the Slytherin territory. He tried not to look too closely at any of the compartments. The last thing he wanted was to meet a certain blond prat and his cronies.

Moving further down, Harry was relieved to finally see an empty compartment. He practically dove into it in relief. Taking up his usual position by the window, Harry drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them tight.

He took several slow, careful breaths and worked on chiseling away at the feelings of contained-panic and unease. He'd learned a lot about himself over the summer. Thankfully, the Dursley's had given him the best present of peace and quiet by taking their vacation and leaving him behind.

Harry had been able rest and eat to his heart's content. His new self was extremely pleased at that and Harry had even begun to do a bit of research on his 'condition' via books through Owl Order. He'd discovered an affinity for raw meat nearly every four days and a hankering for nuts and a craving for heat, walking barefoot and drinking lots of water.

He made notes of all the changes and things that had happened and then he'd battled and wrestled with himself over whether he ought to mention what had happened to anyone at all. He had brought his glasses with him—knowing that Hermione would be the first one to pick up on the fact that he didn't need them as much as he hadn't thought of a good excuse yet.

Not meeting them on the platform had sent several stabs of loneliness through him, but finding an empty compartment had cemented the unwanted feelings of despair and shame. His change had left everyone thinking he was a freak.

_No_! He thought, viciously. It wasn't even obvious to everyone else that he'd changed—he'd worked hard through the summer to be sure that he could maintain his human appearance as best as possible. He'd even looked up glamour charms, intending to cast one as soon as possible, only to realize that his magic had refused to cooperate.

That had sent him into a minor panic attack, but he'd pushed it aside in favor of more rational thinking. This was simply another instance where fate had decided to play with his life and as such, he'd just have to make the most of it. That had been the reason he'd ventured into Slytherin territory to find a compartment.

The door to the compartment slid open and Harry jumped. He turned and stared, even as he shrank back from the newcomer.

Tall, with soft grey eyes and a warm smile, the girl's face was set off by sugar-brown curls and plump coral lips and a rather pointed nose. Her smile upped a few watts as they landed on Harry and then she turned and stuck her head through the door, looking up and down the aisle for a moment, before stepping back in.

Curiosity shone quite clearly in her grey eyes, but she didn't speak straight away and instead, set down her small parcel on the empty seat opposite of Harry before bustling about to pull down the shades and turn the door lock to keep any others from entering. "I hope you don't mind." She said, pleasantly. "I was rather hoping for a quiet ride this year." She took a deep breath and sat down, even as her eyes grew impossibly wider.

Harry suppressed the urge to shiver, as the Hufflepuff moved to sit opposite of him, the soft grey eyes never straying. He didn't answer. There wasn't really anything he had to say to that. A slight frown was visible as he tried to place the face and after several minutes, he could.

_Jones. Megan Jones. _

She was a Hufflepuff in his same year and a prefect, who sometimes joined the study parties with the Ravenclaws. Harry swallowed. He didn't know much about Megan, except that she was friendly to nearly everyone in true, typical Hufflepuff nature and she didn't appear to be a pureblood. She turned her attention to the little parcel from earlier and began to unwrap it.

Harry shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

He'd been hoping for a quiet ride too.

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><p><strong>AN: Megan Jones is an actual Hufflepuff in Harry's year, as per a mention of her character in JKR's notes during an interview. The rest is my imagination. Thanks for reading! **


	3. Meeting Megan

**See chapter 1 for disclaimers/warnings/summaries.**

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><p><em>PREVIOUSLY:<em>

Jones. Megan Jones.

_She was a Hufflepuff in his same year and a prefect, who sometimes joined the study parties with the Ravenclaws. Harry swallowed. He didn't know much about Megan, except that she was friendly to nearly everyone in true, typical Hufflepuff nature and she didn't appear to be a pureblood. She turned her attention to the little parcel from earlier and began to unwrap it._

_Harry shifted uncomfortably and looked away._

_He'd been hoping for a quiet ride too._

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><p>"Harry, isn't it?" The girl spoke, after a long silence between them. "Harry Potter? I don't believe we've ever been properly introduced." She said, formally. "Meagan Jones, Hufflepuff. We share the same year."<p>

Harry's head snapped back around to stare at her. Of course, his creature inheritance had healed every single mark on his body except for the only one that he'd wished it had. That stupid cursed lightning bolt. It was probably the only thing that would haunt him for the rest of his life—at least, at present. He eyed the girl warily, mentally making a running set of notes in his head. She'd probably placed him at once after seeing the scar. No wonder she'd drawn the blinds. She probably couldn't believe her good fortune of finding the famous Boy-Who-Lived all to herself.

The Hufflepuff was watching him curiously, but didn't seem to hold anything but genuine interest on her behalf, even as she prompted for a formal introduction.

No hidden intentions that he could discern, at least, not like Draco Malfoy had on that fateful first ride to Hogwarts.

Harry hesitated. Something had always bothered him about that—as if he'd managed to somehow jinx himself and start their rivalry by ignoring the polite gesture of a handshake on that day. Of course, there was no way he would've been able to take that hand—not after Malfoy had insulted the Weasleys, but Ron had very little to do with it.

Harry just couldn't stand bullies—and Malfoy had all but physically cut Ron down to 'size'. He couldn't have ignored that.

The silence in the little compartment strained a bit longer than was strictly polite.

Megan's smile slightly dimmed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." She turned away with a slight tilt of her head, attention returning to her little partially unwrapped parcel.

Harry opened and shut his mouth. He just didn't feel like talking much, though the calm and polite aura surrounding the girl managed to gift him a nice little guilt trip. She hadn't pried beyond anything but to verify who he was. He almost sighed and mentally reviewed what he knew of Hufflepuffs and a familiar named Jones. He didn't know too much, just that she was kind to just about everyone, regardless of house and sometimes helped Madam Prince in the library, a position that Hermione was insanely jealous of and was good with the younger year students, a boon to her position as a prefect. It was said that she came from a large family and her skills in Ancient Runes were admirable.

Beyond that, Harry couldn't recall much more. He was rarely able to keep up with all the news in the wizarding world—especially during the summer when he lost contact with virtually everyone and everything the moment he returned to the Dursley's. It didn't help that Miss Megan Jones probably didn't do anything worthy of mention in a wizarding newspaper, even if he had access, he wouldn't have learned much from it.

Well, anything useful, anyway, he amended.

The rest of his wits caught up to him and Harry reminded himself that Megan had politely apologized and gone back to her own things. He mentally backtracked, something he had been working on over the summer and retrieved her original question. Oh, right. He didn't have to answer to that, but it would be proper to.

"I am." He managed. Then blinked. "Potter, I mean." The words tangled up. "I am Harry Potter. Sorry."

Megan looked up and her smile brightened again, the expression lighting up her face. "No need to apologize. I didn't mean to pry. I thought it was you, because your hair always sticks up like so." She made a motion with her hands. "And you're the only one I know of who wears glasses, but you aren't wearing them now, so I thought I might have had you wrong." She grinned. "It is a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance." The grey eyes softened as she inclined her head. "May I inquire as to how was your summer? I had a wonderful time at home, though it has put me back on my homework." She gestured to the open textbooks and scroll of parchment before her. "They had a send-off party for me last night and it would've been rude to refuse because of homework, so now I have to finish it up here." She shook her arm out and flexed her wrist. "I forgot how hard it is to write on a moving train." She said, ruefully. "Did you finish all of yours?"

He couldn't believe she'd noticed. Someone who he'd barely taken notice of had watched him close enough to know how his hair stuck up and that he always wore glasses. Harry swallowed hard. They were trivial clues, but no one had ever said that to his face before. He didn't know if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

Something sounded off in the back of his mind and Harry immediately pounced on the mental distraction. His new instincts screamed at him to be careful and alert. Out of habit, he took a cautious sniff of his own and his brow furrowed as he tried to puzzle out what his instincts were telling him.

He'd gotten a teeny bit of practice in the past week—once he'd figured out that he could distinguish most scents—and had been able to pick up when his relatives were lying through their teeth, when they were terrified of him and when he ought to run. At the moment, the reaction filtering through him after a good whiff of Megan's scent had him relaxing. His Dragel body processed the scent as something familiar and soothing—something that he didn't have to be afraid of, regardless of whether Harry agreed with it or not. It also had a slightly sweet scent—one that Harry couldn't quite place. He really needed to find more information on this Dragel thing.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright?" Megan's voice took on a worried tone.

The question was completely unexpected.

Really unexpected.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Are. You. Alright?" Megan repeated, this time with deliberate emphasis to each word. Her brow furrowed in concern, but there was no bite to the words though, only a genuine curiosity. "You seemed to disappear on me for a moment there. Looking a bit lost and all. Do excuse me for asking. I don't mean to be rude."

"I'm fine." Harry bit off, unable to help himself for giving the curt reply. He didn't like the fact that the girl might've picked up on his current state of confusion—nor did he think it was anyone's business how he was really feeling. Miss Megan Jones could take her nosy questions and jump out the train window if she liked—as far as Harry was concerned, no one but his circle had the right to know how he was really feeling and—oh Merlin!

The thought had Harry consciously digging his hands into his oversized jeans with a death grip. He was thinking of a circle—Merlin's beard! He hadn't even met any potential mates or—no, he wasn't going to let his head go in that direction. It'd only been a few weeks—okay, a month—if he counted correctly and surely that wasn't enough time to leave him thinking of things like Dragel circles and mateships and—Harry swallowed hard. He was sixteen! Sixteen! That was not old enough for this kind of…thing.

A soft groan slipped through his lips. Harry mentally resisted the urge to bang his head against the back of the train seat.

"I am glad then." Megan said, quietly. She didn't seem to notice the groan, or if she did, was too polite to call attention to it. She fiddled around with her assignments and parchments before finally drawing out a large, hardcover book with gilded pages and scripted writing on the cover and spine.

A soft whoosh of energy rolled off of the tome and Harry realized it as being a special protected book. He'd heard of those. Herimone had often indulged in daydreams of owning or being allowed to read one. Harry had only half-listened to her.

He squinted slightly, drawing on his new, enhanced sight to make out the title of the book. It was a giant encyclopedia of magical creatures. Harry felt his mouth grow dry. He didn't recall that title in all his searching through the bookstore catalogues. Though from the very feeling of old, ancient magic that radiated from it, he could guess that the book might be a family heirloom—after all, most protected books were—at least, according to Hermione anyway.

A slight tingle rippled through him and Harry wished he could read it. The magic already left a rather pleasant feeling behind and Harry knew that there would be nothing dark inside of it or nothing harmful anyway. Not that he expected anything less from a Hufflepuff.

They sat in silence for a bit.

The snack trolley went by and Megan didn't look up, obviously engrossed in her readings, grey eyes roving methodically across the page, her lips occasionally forming the words she read.

Harry's stomach rumbled and he stood up to purchase a few snacks. He wouldn't be able to wait until dinner in the Great Hall if he didn't get something now. The ache in his stomach reminded him that sweets weren't really what he wanted, but it was the only option he had right now. So Harry purchased quite an armful and carried the sweets back to his seat and proceeded to devour practically all of them, pushing away the thought that he was literally gorging himself of pure sugar.

"That's quite a bit of sugar." Megan commented. She looked up from her book at last, an expression of amusement painted plainly across her face. She rummaged through her wrapped parcel bundle drew out another wrapped chunk of something that she unshrunk and then proceeded to unwrap yet again.

Harry's mouth watered as he caught the scent of blood and fresh meat. Not the packaged, processed stuff, not the lightly roasted kind, just the real thing—as fresh as possible. His head popped up and he found himself staring at neat skewers in a row, with rich pink and red cubes strung through it. He could see a preservation charm and a scent charm that immediately cut off the delicious wafts from blowing over to his side of the compartment. His teeth and gums ached, a warning that his fangs were threatening to make and appearance. It took a supreme effort of self-control for Harry to will them away, but he couldn't help staring after the neatly cubed skewers. It didn't even occur to him to wonder what on earth a girl was doing with skewers of raw meat in her traveling satchel.

Out of the corner of her eye, Megan's light eyebrows arched upwards into her hairline as she took in the very obvious expression on Harry's face. "Shall I trade you one for a chocolate frog?" She suggested. Throwing him a figurative lifeline as the torn look on his face indicated his want and then his reluctance to ask for himself. Harry simply stared and said nothing. Megan hesitated for a moment, feeling a slight pull to rescue the boy from what would be a socially awkward moment if there were others present. She was familiar with the little nuances of the wizarding world, her pureblooded father made sure of it, especially the social games played in the pureblooded circles. Games she was loath to play regardless of position and prestige.

She could tell with a glance that Harry Potter didn't play those games—visual confirmation for those particular rumors had been wonderful—and it didn't take a Ravenclaw to figure it out. It was nice to know that the purported savior of their world didn't just take things at face value.

"I don't mind." She coaxed.

Harry blinked as the words registered and then looked at the scattering of empty wrappers. A soft whine of distress slipped through his lips as he rifled through the mess. There really weren't any real leftovers, except for maybe a few half-eaten bites that he'd overlooked in his haste to fill his stomach. He missed the look that flitted over the girl's face.

Megan's eyes darkened by several degrees from a smooth grey to a nearly grey-black. The whine of distress from Harry prompted a response in the way of the soft sound she made in the back of her throat, a response that served to smooth over the furrow in the boy's brow.

Harry's head of messy hair snapped up and for a moment, he smiled, before the expression turned bewildered as if he couldn't understand where the urge to smile had come from.

Megan snagged two skewers from her unusual pile of munchies and offered him two.

Harry hesitated. "Would you take a rain check on the chocolate frogs?" He asked, even as he reached for the jerky. He had to have it—rain check or not. He hoped she wouldn't mind. He didn't think she would, but then again, things never really went his way.

"Rain check?" She was thoughtful for a moment as if trying to remember.

"Er…it's a muggle expression."

"Ah." She brightened. "Knew I'd heard it somewhere."

"It means that, I'll get it for you later?"

"That's fine." She cheerfully handed over the skewers. "Make it two frogs, an even trade, yes?" She then took one for herself and settled down again, rifling through her satchel for another book. She happened to catch Harry's lingering gaze on the previous book, but didn't say anything else, only offering another tentative smile.

They arrived at Hogwarts and Megan caught his arm as he reached for the compartment door.

"Wait a moment." She explained, in answer to Harry's unspoken question.

"Why?"

"Slytherin territory, remember? We need to give them a moment to get off first. They won't bother you if they don't see you, but if they do, well, they've a reputation to uphold, you know?" She leaned forward, listening. A moment later, Harry could hear Malfoy's voice ordering Crabbe and Goyle to clear a pathway for him through the usual gaggle of students.

Harry found himself subconsciously mimicking the action of leaning forward and he flinched at the amplified voice of Draco Malfoy. His new senses sometimes gave him a headache, it was hard to remember to be careful with them. He winced and readjusted the sense, waiting. The customary arrogance he was used to hearing from Malfoy was rather subdued and almost non-existent as he directed his cronies past and followed in their wake. It seemed as if it were merely a matter of course than the pleasurable pastime that the blond often indulged in.

Soon they were on the ground and making their way to the carriages. Harry sucked in a breath as he saw the thestrals. A painful stab in his chest reminded him of the reason why he could see the creatures in the first place and he sucked in a breath and blew it out forcefully.

He didn't need to dwell on that now. There were other things to be worrying and thinking about. He looked around, searching for the heads of red hair that always helped to center his world. When he didn't see Ron or Hermione's usual bushy head of brown hair, he frowned.

"Something wrong, Harry?" Megan trotted beside him, coming to a stop beside on empty carriage. She threw the satchel over and hefted herself easily up into the seat. "You can ride with me if you like. I don't mind."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And there's Megan. I've tried not to make her "too" hufflepuff-ish, even though she is a Hufflepuff. Do review-and I will take some votes/suggestions for pairings as long as they are NOT Ginny/Hermione/Cho or Fleur. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. In the Carriage

**See chapter one for disclaimers/summaries/warnings**

* * *

><p><em>PREVIOUSLY:<em>

_Harry looked around, searching for the heads of red hair that always helped to center his world. When he didn't see the Twins, Ron or Hermione's usual bushy head of brown hair, he frowned._

_"Something wrong, Harry?" Megan trotted beside him, coming to a stop beside on empty carriage. She threw the satchel over and hefted herself easily up into the seat. "You can ride with me if you like. I don't mind."_

* * *

><p>"Actually, I-" Harry began. He wasn't quite sure what to answer to that, but he had a feeling that riding up to the castle with Megan as his carriage mate might cause a few tongues to start wagging. A slight twinge of unease registered as he remembered some of the rumors and gossip that had gone around after his few disastrous attempts at dating.<p>

It never turned out right.

"Harry? Oi, mate, over here!" Ron's bellow carried easily over the crowd.

It was just the distraction that he needed. "Ron?" Harry turned and braced himself for the armful of bushy-haired witch that usually followed. It didn't come right away. He was mildly surprised when Hermione didn't launch herself at him the way she usually did. A closer look showed that, in fact, she wasn't even near him yet. She held Ron's hand as they approached and was busy looking over her shoulder into the crowd for something that Harry couldn't figure.

"Harry?" Ron tried again. He stretched up on his tip-toes to inch forward as other students bustled between them.

"Hi Ron." He managed.

Hermione turned around and her eyes lit up as they landed on Harry. "Harry!" She gushed and promptly swallowed him in a hug. He flinched—barely—he knew she wouldn't notice it. She never had.

He gave a soft sigh as he felt the temporary tension melt away while he hugged her back, relieved to find comfort in the familiar routine. "Hey Hermione." He murmured.

"I brought your birthday present." She said, releasing him. Her face was a happy flush of red and her hair was in its usual wild curls frothing about her cheeks. "Did you finish all of your summer-"

"I did!" He interrupted before she could get started. That was the only way to spare himself a lecture. "I did every single assignment and except for one halfway-essay that I'll finish tonight, I'm all done. I just couldn't finish it on the train." He added the last bit when he saw her about to comment on it. It worked, for she blinked and promptly changed course with whatever she'd been about to say.

"See, I told you , Ron." Hermione turned to the redhead who wore an expression of longsuffering on his freckled face. "I told you he'd do the smart thing and finish his work. I hope you at least did your reading, because I'm not letting you copy off of my-"

"Harry!" Ginny came barreling through the throng of students and she also flung herself at the green-eyed boy and hugged him tightly. She pretended not to notice his usual flinch. He pretended that he didn't know she knew. She'd never said anything. She certainly wouldn't start now. "I brought your birthday present too!" She crowed, giving a little bounce as she held him. "How was your summer? Are you okay? You look…different. Why do would you look different when you—oh! Where's your glasses? Did you get taller?" She reached out with a hand to check his height in relation to herself. "Yeah, you did. You look…good, I think. Ron—how could you walk off and leave me all by myself to-!"

"I guess I knocked them off." Harry lied, fumbling to grab them out of the pockets in the folds of his robes. He slipped them on and grimaced. His vision went all haywire and he scowled. Thankfully, Ginny was too busy arguing with Ron to even pay attention to his lame excuse.

"Harry?" Hermione waved a hand in front of his face as she caught sight of his expression. "What's the matter?"

Harry squinted and then stared in surprise as his vision adjusted itself and he could see fine through the glasses that had just given him a near headache moments before. That was wonderful. He'd never guessed he'd be able to do something like that and it sure went a long way in making sure that he could keep up appearances in spite of his creature inheritance. That was wonderful. Most definitely quite wonderful. "Er, it's nothing, Hermione. I just…had a moment." He smiled, knowing he'd have to distract her quick before she decided to pry. "C'mon, we'd better get a carriage quick." Harry looked up as Megan's carriage lumbered off, filled with a few Slytherin and Hufflepuff second and third-years to make it up. He felt his stomach give a little twist at that and he pushed the feeling away.

He shouldn't have any feelings towards that at all.

None. Zip.

He shook his head.

Whatever it was—if there was a whatever—he'd deal with later, right now, he needed to keep his head clear and focused. He couldn't afford to give himself away.

They found a carriage and managed to catch each other up on the summer. Harry was very careful not to say much of anything, and the new version of Ginny was far more animated than he ever remembered her being—that worked quite well for him—until she finally ran out breath for a long moment.

"You're awfully quiet, Harry." Hermione eyed him critically. She hadn't given it up after all. She'd merely been biding her time waiting for the right moment. "Did something happen?" Her question drew Ron's questioning gaze and even Ginny's own concerned one. "Is there anything you need to tell us-"

"What? No, no, no! I'm fine." Harry stammered out, avoiding the brown eyes that drilled meaningfully into him. "Really, it's just been a really long…" He trailed off and pounced on the next logical thing that slipped into his head. "Actually, I couldn't find you guys on the train and it kind of threw me off. We always sit together, I mean, even when you have prefect stuff to do. Where were you? Was everything alright?" At that, both prefects blushed a bright red.

"Ah, er, never mind it, Harry. We were fine." Ron tried to smile, but he suddenly couldn't look his best friend in the face. "I guess we were distracted…too. So, ah, have you seen the latest Quidditch-"

"Is that Malfoy?" Hermione interrupted as she half-stood in her seat, craning her neck to see out. She nibbled her lower lip, her brow furrowed in concentration as she strained to see something that was too far away. "Bother that, I can't tell! Ron, is that him? Take a good look!"

"Where? Why?" Ron stretched his neck to see. "What for?"

"Didn't you hear? His father's been thrown in Azkaban with all the other Death Eaters from that recent raid, but last week there was almost a huge breakout. Again."

"Again?" Harry frowned. "What do you mean again?"

"Remember the first time the Death Eaters were released?" She perked a brow. "Bellatrix and all that? That time. Apparently, it was something like that again, only it didn't succeed. Word has it that Mrs. Malfoy is missing and up until this morning, so was Draco, but Dumbledore said that he was coming back and I haven't-"

"I hear him on the train-!" Harry began.

"I'm pretty sure that's him up there though." Hermione frowned. "Wait, you saw him on the train? How did he look?"

_Heard. _Harry corrected silently_. I didn't really see him. _

"What? Mione, you're not making any sense." Ron looked at her, reproachfully. "And why are you so-"

"Oh hush up, Ron." She smacked his knee, a gesture that seemed more familiar than it would've been since the last time the Golden Trio had been together. "Rumor has it that it wasn't a regular breakout in Azkaban. No one got out, but they say that something…" Hermione swallowed and lowered her voice. "Something got in."

"Something really bad." Ginny picked up. She twisted her hand together on her lap. "They say they let loose a real…monster on them. Mum wouldn't say anything else, just told me to be real—careful—this year. Said to look out." Ginny wrinkled her nose. "She had us all stay in the living room for the night too, wouldn't let us out of her sight."

Ron stifled a shudder . "I've never seen her like that. Thought she'd start crying on me or something when we had to leave. Left Fred and George to deal with her."

"Ron!" Hermione smacked his arm. "It wasn't that bad. She's just worried and I can't blame her. Whatever it is, it's got to be bad if it's got your Mum that-"

"Dementors?" Harry said, confusedly. "I thought that they couldn't-"

"No, Harry." Hermione said, patiently. "Demontor's may have some corporeal existence, but there's no way they could've done the kind of damage that Azkaban claims. It's something worse. Real monsters. Something with sharp teeth and claws and a lot of really dark magic. I think Dumbledore might know what it is, but he won't tell us. He hasn't said much of anything lately, just that this year's going to be very dangerous and different." She nibbled on her lower lip, her brow furrowed together.

Harry stared at her until she looked away uncomfortably. She knew something else, but she wasn't telling him yet. He knew that look too well and a few careful whiffs gave him all the scented confirmation he needed. She wasn't lying to him, but she'd come awfully close. A few more whiffs helped him to organize her in his head. It pained him slightly to notice that their scents had changed—how he knew they'd changed, he didn't know—but he was certain of it. They smelled just like Ginny did and while Ginny was a friend, she'd never been as close as the other two. It didn't escape him that Hermione was set in one of her modes—he knew that look as well—Dumbledore was hiding something from them and she didn't like it. Of course, Harry reasoned, she would probably be the only one to really pick it up—and if Dumbledore had been obvious for Hermione to pick up, well, Harry didn't like that at all. He resisted the urge to shake his head to clear it. He tried to focus instead on something in the present instead of the speculations chasing each other 'round in his head. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because Dumbledore stopped at The Burrow a few times." Ron shrugged. "He didn't sign your birthday letter though, he had to leave while we were packing the parcel, said he felt something important was about to happen. We haven't seen or heard from him since-"

"Why was he there?" Harry interrupted.

"He said that Malfoy decided to come over to the side of the Light." Hermione took a deep breath. "He asked us to keep an eye on him and see if he really meant it and if he did anything…unusual."

"Unusual how?" The feeling of unease turned to ice in Harry's stomach. "Mione, what aren't you telling me?"

The redness flew from her face and Hermione took on a rather pale hue. "Er…not here, Harry." She said, at last, when it looked like he was about to demand more. "Not safe enough." Her smile was strained.

Harry forced himself to nod in return and turned to stare at the scenery until they reached Hogwarts.

Safe.

He wondered exactly how safe was safe—new Dragel attributes and all. This year was certainly setting itself up to be a miserable headache.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I wrote a lovely little note to everyone and my crazy internet ate it. *sigh* Severe Thunderstorms hit my area pretty bad last night, so I'm lucky to have any internet at all right now, so here's chapter four! I hope you all enjoy it. Special thanks to everyone who has voted and reviewed so far! I appreciate the feedback and the pairing suggestions, the list is below! Vote via PM or review. List will be adjusted by chapter until I decide.  
><strong>

**Luna -3  
><strong>

**Daphne -3  
><strong>

**Parvati -1  
><strong>

**Padma -2  
><strong>

**Bellatrix -1  
><strong>

**Narcissa -1  
><strong>

**Gabriella -1  
><strong>

**Susan B. -2  
><strong>

**Hannah A.-1**

**OFC(Vampire)-1**

**Pansy P. -2  
><strong>

**Millicent B. -1  
><strong>

**Lavender B. -1**

**Jennifer Dawn (Gryffindor in Harry's Year) -1  
><strong>

**AlexTheGoth**: Woot! I'm thrilled you're reading this version as well. ^_^ It'll get different in the next few chapters. I hope you enjoy it. The rewriting takes a while. Luna and Daphne are definitely in the running and yes, Harry is the sub in this fic, that's the only way the plot bunny hops. ^_^

**edward kizaru** : I've added your idea of an OFCVampire to the list of votes. Thank you for the suggestion!


	5. Cry In The Night

**See chapter one for disclaimers/warnings/summaries.**

* * *

><p><em>PREVIOUSLY:<em>

_"Unusual how?" The feeling of unease turned to ice in Harry's stomach. "Hermione, what aren't you telling me?"_

_The redness flew from her face and Hermione took on a rather pale hue. "Er…not here, Harry." She said, at last, when it looked like he was about to demand more. "Not safe enough." Her smile was strained._

_Harry forced himself to nod in return and turned to stare at the scenery until they reached Hogwarts._

Safe.

_He wondered exactly how safe was safe—new Dragel attributes and all. This year was certainly setting itself up to be a miserable headache._

* * *

><p>The welcoming feast went well.<p>

Harry didn't remember much of it. The entire event was something of a colorful and slightly loud blur. There was too much noise, too many scents and too much magic that reminded him of the fact that he didn't have any.

The Sorting Hat's voice echoed through the hallway and the sorting went quickly.

Harry was grateful.

There were three new additions to the Gryffindors, four to Ravenclaw, seven to Hufflepuff and five to Slytherin. Megan would have her hands full with seven new faces, Harry mused as he clapped politely for them all.

The feast blurred by and when it was all over, Harry wearily followed his housemates to the Gryffindor tower. He'd been waiting all evening for the event to finish and all he could think of was his nice, warm, comfortable bed. It was all but calling for him and he desperately wanted to wrap himself up in the clean blankets and sleep for a week.

Maybe more.

Harry yawned.

It seemed as if all the energy he'd gathered up over the summer had evaporated within seconds of being around Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the others. He didn't get it. He thought, if anything, that he'd do even better. Being around the Dursley's had drained him—in the usual way—but that hadn't been anything out of the ordinary. Usually, the moment he was back in his friends' company, his magic levels would restore themselves thanks to the usual auras of good-will and intent.

Of course, the fact that he didn't have any magic at all probably had something to do with that, but Harry wasn't one to give up so easily.

He reasoned it out to stress and a few improbable things—namely a certain unmentionable creature inheritance—and decided to retest his magicless theory in Hogwarts. If nothing happened after that, then he'd really have to start thinking of something.

With stifled a yawn, Harry willing himself to focus. It had been a little while since he'd had to sneak away. Thankfully, his sneaking skills weren't the least bit rusty, he thought ruefully. Of all the skills to have at his disposal, it'd only be that one.

Finally, he sat out by the Astronomy tower, wrapped in his invisibility cloak and staring up at the starred sky.

He'd listened to Hermione's explanations—and noted the bushy-haired witch didn't seem at all like he remembered her. He'd watched Ron's embarrassed face—and noted that his gaze didn't stray towards Hermione as much as it used to. He'd ignored Ginny's interjections and her pointy-eyed stare that seemed as if it were looking through his skin to find out his new secret.

When they were all through, Harry had only been able to process the fact that he had to get away. He was no longer so tired as to be dead on his feet, but he was far too restless to stay in the same tower with them.

So he left.

It had taken him almost an hour to wait on Ron to fall asleep and then a little extra wrangling to slip out, undetected. But he'd done it. It hadn't been as bad as he'd thought. Just a matter of getting back into his groove and of course, it was his best skill.

Once he was through, it was easy to slip around the darkened castle and retreat to his favorite haunting place. No one ever came up in this way to check for students or curfew breakers and he knew he could easily throw a little mini-party and still, there would be no one to hear him. Maybe.

Gripping his wand tightly in one hand, Harry tried to cast the simplest spell. "Lumos!"

Nothing happened.

Harry bit his lip. A sinking feeling had wormed its way into his stomach and taken up residence. He had a feeling—no, he had a _very_ bad feeling—that this could not be good. How could it? He'd tried to cast a glamour earlier in the summer—uncaring as to whether there'd be anyone jumping down his throat for underage magic, but he didn't think that the Ministry of Magic would care to keep an eye out for such little blips as that.

He'd hoped so anyway.

Besides, a glamour didn't hurt anyone and shouldn't have taken much magic at all. Just like a simple lighting spell. Harry sighed. "Lumos!" He tried again and scowled when that failed to produce the desired result.

Something was really wrong here. He tried to close his eyes and think of his magic and how it was faring. Sometimes, he was able to simply relax and feel it swimming through his very veins, other times, it was almost as if it wasn't there at all—but it had never refused to show itself as it was doing now.

"Lumos!" Harry cried again.

Still no result.

He slammed his fist into the nearest wall and winced when the rough stone bruised his skin. That was an unwanted side effect. He turned his back to the wall and slid down to sit on the floor, bracing his back against the cold stone.

He didn't know what else to do. There really wasn't much else he knew to do. His first thought would've been that having a creature inheritance had somehow detracted his magic. But as far as he knew, no one had ever lost their magic simply because of a mere inheritance. Harry twisted his hands together and then tucked away his wand. He was going to have some issues in class tomorrow—that was for sure!

He thumped his head lightly on the stone walls, careful not to make it hurt. He didn't want a headache on top of the aching bruise, but he also wanted the solidness of the rock to provide him with the sliver of normality he craved.

Everything felt so horribly out of whack. Eventually, he was able to push his thoughts away and sit in uncluttered silence. Harry sat there, quietly, staring up at the night sky until his stomach rumbled.

He grimaced remembering that he hadn't had much of an appetite at the table—being unable to concentrate thanks to Hermione's mysterious words—and had consequently been unable to eat as his overexcited mind wouldn't allow him. His stomach had positively rebelled at the thought of food—especially when he saw all the cooked meats and dishes laid out for them. He knew he'd never be able to stomach it.

This had been one of the four days in his 'meat cravings' that he'd been able to pinpoint. He certainly hadn't been able to satisfy it at the Dursley's, a feat that had only gotten more difficult as the summer had worn on. He hoped it would be easier to handle now—at least, seeing as he was at Hogwarts and there were other options than stealing raw meat out of a refrigerator in the middle of the night.

Harry considered visiting the kitchens for a moment and then pushed those thoughts aside in favor of simply calling for Dobby.

The excited house elf appeared in seconds and immediately hushed at Harry's express wishes. He promised to bring the quiet boy a few slabs of rare meat and disappeared with a soft pop. Harry gratefully wrapped the picnic blanket tighter around his shoulders and then settled the invisible cloak around it a little more securely.

He felt the familiar longing to spread his wings and fly—a nightly occurrence at the Dursley's residence—one that he could never risk. Dobby reappeared a moment later with a large plate, knife and fork and two hefty chunks of rare meat.

"Thank you, Dobby." Harry murmured, turning grateful eyes to the excited house elf. "You can go now. I'm sorry to disturb you so late in the night."

"It is no trouble for Master Harry Potter, sir." Dobby exclaimed. "I be happy to get anything Master Harry that he be wantin-"

"This is all I need, Dobby. Thanks. If you'd just pop up here in a bit and collect the plate, that'd be great."

Dobby grinned. "I be doing that then, Master Harry-"

"Night, Dobby."

The house elf disappeared with another pop and Harry sighed. He set the silver cutlery down and then placed the plate in front of him. The barely cooked meat didn't seem anywhere near as appetizing as a fresh kill—not that Harry had ever had one—but it was all he had for the moment and he'd have to make do with it. He pictured it in his mind, a deer perhaps, and imagined the warm flesh and taste of blood.

He sucked in a breath and lengthened his hands into the claws he'd slowly grown accustomed to. Within seconds, he tore into the meat with fangs, claws and happy sounds from his throat as he stuffed his face. The little mental exercise always helped him to handle moments like this.

When he finished, he went through the usual ritual of cleaning all his fingers and face, then set the plate in a corner with the unused knife and fork for Dobby's retrieval. He curled up in a little spot near the railing and yawned. It would be so easy to fall asleep here—and much more comfortable, he was inclined to think.

His mind wandered on, however and he thought about Hermione's words and wondered how many more Slytherins were slowly converting to the side of the Light. That was good, he knew the snakes well enough to venture that they would make formidable opponents to any side and was relieved that they were changing allegiances. He wondered how the Light was faring and what horrors he'd have to face this year.

There'd never been a year when horror and torture didn't come calling and bellowing his name.

His hand clenched faintly and he tightened one into a fist, ghosting his fingers over the scarless back. The Dragel inheritance might have taken away the visual scars, but he could still feel the real ones simmering inside him, a memory he would not easily forget.

A wave of loneliness washed over him and Harry made a soft, sad chirring sound in his throat as he closed his eyes and turned his face to the moonlight. There was no answer to his call, of course, it was barely even a whisper and Harry was too worried that he'd be discovered if he dared make any noise beyond breathing—and after all, there was too much of something at risk. He didn't want anyone to know he was some strange extinct creature. He didn't want to believe he was a strange extinct creature. His life was a dramatic mess without that little bit of information.

Adding a creature inheritance merely made it another nail in the coffin of his supposed freakishness.

Harry swallowed hard. He repeated the sound without even listening for answer. He knew there would be none, but he couldn't keep himself from calling, even as it made him feel even darker and more alone than before. The Dragel inside of him knew that he craved the community of his own kind and the special kind of love and support that would come with a mateship.

A mateship he was sure he'd never have.

The dark-haired boy wearily gathered himself up and shuffled down back to the Gryffindor Tower, it'd be a long, busy day tomorrow and he'd need his sleep. If there was anything he'd learned at all during the summer, after his creature inheritance, it had been the need to rest and to rest well. His sleep cycles had gone haywire and he doubted returning to school would ease that particular grievance.

Harry disappeared into the darkness without a backward glance.

He never saw the tall, shadowed figure lurking the background, who looked from the plate to the direction of the retreating footsteps, shadowed hands clenched tightly at the sides.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Chapter 5! Yay. This chapter is a bit short, because it focuses on Harry and what's going through his head before all the craziness begins. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you all for voting and reviewing, the results have been really interesting! I appreciate the feedback and the pairing suggestions. The updated list is below! Vote via PM or review. List will be adjusted by chapter until I decide. It's a tad long for now, I'll crop them next chappy. ^_^  
><strong>

**Luna -3  
><strong>

**Daphne -5  
><strong>

**Parvati -1  
><strong>

**Padma -2  
><strong>

**Bellatrix -5  
><strong>

**Narcissa -3  
><strong>

**Gabriella -1  
><strong>

**Susan B. -5  
><strong>

**Hannah A.-1**

**OFC(Vampire)-3**

**Pansy P. -3  
><strong>

**Millicent B. -2  
><strong>

**Lavender B. -1**

**Jennifer Dawn (Gryffindor in Harry's Year) -1**

**N. Tonks-2**

**Rowena Ravenclaw -1**

**Morgana le Fey -1**

**Perenelle Famel -1  
><strong>

**nobother**: I'm definitely aiming to get some rare pairings in here, hence starting out with Megan. I've added your vote to Millicent, it'd definitely be an interesting pairing with her and Harry. :)

**Irishfighter**: I've added your suggestions to the list, thanks a bunch! I'm not sure about Rowena Ravenclaw-well, as far as time-traveling, etc. I don't want to overload this fic and I certainly have some complicated plans for it, but I'm sure I could think of a way around it, if more folks want her in there. *thinking hard* Thanks for voting!

**plums**: I've definitely got plans for the OFC vampire and I'm surprised at how many folks want Bellatrix. *humming* I'll try my best to make it interesting. Stick around for the ride!

**Count chocula**: love your screenname btw. :P It's pretty hard to find a good Harry/Susan. I haven't found one I like yet, anyhow. I'll see how it goes for now.

**ghostwriter84**: Glad you enjoyed it! I have to set up the plotstuffs before I get to the fun parts.

**MattQ1**: Votes received! :)

**AlexTheGoth**: Oh wow. I've started a whole genre. Dragel stories. XD Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying the read. It's interesting to flip this story inside out to make it work. I like Narcissa with Lucius and the way they seem to complement each other naturally. I haven't decided what I'm doing to them yet. *cough* To them, not with them...ahem. LOL. Tonks is a bit wild and crazy, but I think that's the little bit of Black in her that she can't escape. Considering Sirius anyway. Ho hum. We shall see. I've plans for this fic. ~_^


	6. Harry's First Day

**See chapter one for disclaimers/warnings/summaries**

* * *

><p><em>PREVIOUSLY:<em>

_The dark-haired boy wearily gathered himself up and shuffled down back to the Gryffindor Tower, it'd be a long, busy day tomorrow and he'd need his sleep. If there was anything he'd learned at all during the summer, after his creature inheritance, it had been the need to rest and to rest well. His sleep cycles had gone haywire and he doubted returning to school would ease that particular grievance._

_Harry disappeared into the darkness without a backward glance._

_He never saw the tall, shadowed figure lurking the background, who looked from the plate to the direction of the retreating footsteps, shadowed hands clenched tightly at the sides._

* * *

><p>The first day began with the usual, breakfast in the Great Hall. Harry was usually pleasantly sandwiched between Ron and Hermione. Usually. But the current seating arrangement changed just enough for it to be Hermione, Ron and Harry on the other end. The Twins were sitting further down the table and talking to Angelina and a few of the other upper-year girls.<p>

Laughter flowed freely from their corner of the table and for a moment, Harry wondered what it was like to be normal like that—in their shoes.

He tried to pretend it didn't really bother him, but it did. He felt it plainly like a definite stab of loneliness that pierced through his stomach like as if it were a knife twisted and left there. He picked at his food and felt the 'knife' twist even deeper when Hermione didn't harp on him to eat more as she usually would.

Not that he could've really eaten much. His appetite had upped and left the moment he'd seen the new seating arrangement. It had thrown him off-kilter in a way he hadn't expected. Arguing with himself over such a little detail did more harm than good and so Harry gave it up and settled for making shapes and goals with his breakfast plate.

At least he'd look busy, if nothing else.

His morning melancholy was interrupted by the arrival of an unusual breakfast partner and punctuated by a flip of one thick, black plait. Parvati Patil slid easily into the space beside him and began reaching for the dishes along the table as if this were where she usually sat.

For a moment, Harry froze. They hadn't really spoke much—if at all—since his disastrous reality as her escort to the Yule Ball. He swallowed and glared at his breakfast plate. This was certainly starting out to be a strange day in more ways than one.

Her rich brown eyes flickered sideways at him and a slight spark of surprise registered. Her soft pink lips quirked into somewhat of a frown as she leaned forward and looked up and down the table, before settling back into her seat. She wore simple gold hoop earrings with a jade bead in the center of it, her thick, shiny hair pulled into a tight, neat plait that hung down her back, past her waist.

"Good morning." She said, politely.

"Morning." Harry managed. He caught sight of a thin, gold-and-green bangle on one wrist as her shirt-cuffs eased up and she stretched to reach the serving spoons of her favorite dishes.

She half-smiled at him and continued to fill her plate with the warm breakfast dishes before her. A moment later, she passed him the bowl as a matter of course. He took it, quickly, as she nearly dropped it in his hands and continued on with reaching for the desk dish.

He awkwardly handed it down the line, seeing Ron's face light up at the thought of bread pudding for breakfast and he noted that Hermione didn't even seem to care. The brunet returned his attention to his own breakfast plate only to realize that Parvati had finished filling her plate and was now adding to his.

"Er-" He began.

"You look awful." She said, bluntly. "Didn't you get enough sleep or something?" She added a hefty scoop of scrambled eggs to the right side of his plate. "Eat up. It'll make you feel better." She wrinkled her nose. "You look like you're about to pass out." She frowned.

The thread of conversation was normal and harmless enough that Harry should've been able to accept and decipher it by now. He should have. Instead, he found himself staring at the pretty Indian girl, before barely managing a weak smile belatedly in reply when the dark beauty stared expectantly at him.

"You say 'thank you'." Parvati prompted.

"Er," Harry managed, eloquently.

"Two words." She rolled her eyes. "Boys…"

"Thank you." Harry mumbled. He didn't want her to get all mad and huffy again. It'd been bad enough after the ball, but that they appeared to be on speaking terms at present was good. He didn't want it to go back to the way it'd been. That was too frustrating to handle. Girls were always complicated. He scowled.

"Good boy. Eat up." She repeated and flashed him a smile that seemed to soften as her gaze swept over him from head to hands. Then her attention returned to her own plate.

"I'm not really-uh-hungry." The smile was forced as if Harry couldn't help himself. "Thanks anyway." He set his fork down, his mind already spinning. There was no way he could really eat the breakfast, not when his stomach was calling for more the kind of meat he'd had last night in the Astronomy Tower. A faint shudder rippled through him and Harry dug his fingernails into his hands to produce the customary spike of pain that would help him keep his head straight and clear.

It was a trick he'd learned early on and it had yet to fail him. He couldn't afford to slack off and let something odd show through now. He'd managed to keep everything together for the past sixteen years—surely he could continue to do so for a good while longer. After all the major things were done—and his life wasn't in some sort of dire straits in regards to Voldemort—Harry figured he could hang on until then.

"Morning, Ginny." Parvati said, pleasantly.

Harry's head snapped up and he realized that the youngest redheaded Weasley had been watching him with narrowed eyes. He nervously began picking at his filled plate all over again. This time, he worked to move Parvati's spoonful of egg bits into even piles around his plate. He knew what was happening, knew that he wasn't about to get in the middle of it and that even if he did, it wouldn't do him much good.

"Morning." Ginny grunted. "Aren't you on the wrong side of the table?"

"Am I?" Parvati's smile darkened just a touch. "I hadn't realized." She said, sweetly. "Are you alright? You look terrible."

"Not any worse than your-"

Harry stabbed the table with his fork.

The movement even surprised him and it drew the attention of both girls.

He swallowed hard and managed a faint smile. Now he really didn't have much of an appetite at all. The bright yellow eggs only served to make the nauseous feeling a dozen times worse and knowing what he knew of Ginny, Harry didn't have to be a genius to figure out that the conversation wouldn't end well. He hadn't meant to stop them, but then again, his stomach clenched tight and a faint image hovered in his head.

_Red meat. Blood. Food. _

His heart throbbed rapidly and he groaned, inwardly. This morning was going from bad to worse in short order.

"Aren't you boys finished yet?" Hermione's disapproving tone sliced through the chatter. She'd stood up, with her bookbag slung over one shoulder as Ron grabbed one last sweet roll from the breakfast platters and took a large bite out of it. Her glare was slightly directed down the table at Neville, Seamus and the others. She was in perfect Head Girl mode. "We can't be late to the first class of the school year on the first day!"

Harry immediately swung his legs over the bench and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm all ready, Hermione." He forced a smile, this time, a little more naturally than before. "We won't be late. I won't be late. First class is transfiguration, right?" And without waiting for her confirm it, he made a beeline for the doors before the others could even slide free of the bench.

One puzzled bushy-haired witch, two redheads and an Indian beauty stared after him.

* * *

><p>"Good morning." Professor McGonagall greeted them stiffly, her head held high as usual. She took a quick scan of her present students and made several notes on the hovering piece of parchment beside her. "Today we're going to be transfiguring…"<p>

Her voice continued on and Harry tuned her out. He was remembering a peculiar incident earlier in the summer and then later on when he'd arrived in the dorms last night. He remembered having a wand and the sudden inability to cast a simple lumos.

"Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall said, stiffly. "Is there something the matter?" She looked pointedly at his washcloth that should've been a throw pillow.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no answer came out. He couldn't think of a single excuse as to why his magic wasn't working—and to tell a lie to his head of house—well, Harry had a feeling that this little lie wouldn't go over well. In fact, if he had to trust his new Dragel senses, they screamed at him to be careful of which side he was on with this stern woman.

"Well, Mr. Potter?"

Harry tried.

He really did.

He said the incantation. He made the correct movements.

Professor McGonagall's brow furrowed. "Try again." She said, briskly. "With feeling!"

He did.

The result did not change.

The washcloth seemed to mock him.

At one point, the washcloth shuddered and then suddenly shot upwards and slapped Professor McGonagall in the face.

Harry stared at her in horror.

She plucked it from her pink-dotted face with two slender, wrinkled fingers, her mouth set in a line. "That, Mr. Potter, is quite enough!" She turned away with a huff. The rest of the class resumed their practicing at a single glare from the elderly woman. A few sniggers from the Slytherin side didn't help matters any.

Harry sat miserably until class was over. She hadn't taken points or assigned a detention, but the very fact that she hadn't done anything, left him with a rather bad feeling. He had noticed that some of the others had some trouble with the assignment, but none of them to the extent that he had—magicless, that is. Malfoy seemed to be the only one out of the bunch with some difficulty, but he'd managed to transfigure the washcloth in the end, so Harry pushed that moment aside.

He wondered which of his fellow classmates had come into any sort of inheritance over the summer. He couldn't see anything obvious, but perhaps they were like him—hiding it from prying eyes. He made a mental note to up his awareness by a few notches. It certainly couldn't hurt.

The moment class let out, he was on his feet and ready to go, hoping that Professor McGonagall wouldn't hold him back to ask any questions. His magic was probably just upset for a bit and would settle down on its own. He was sure of it—almost. After all, it's not like an inheritance could cancel it all out.

Unless he did something big and horrible and terrible or something equally big and terrifying and wonderful, there was no reason for his magic to be anything but simply what it was. He could be a squib—if he did something on such a large scale that he exhausted himself, but as far as he could recall, Harry knew he'd done no such thing.

He'd simply have to give it time—and hope that no one would really notice.

After all, surely there were other students who'd come into inheritances and were sure to cause some sort of ruckus in class.

He hoped.

It was a gamble he'd take for now.

In the meantime, he'd have to start thinking up some believable excuses.

His musings cut into his usual trip time, and Harry looked up to realize that Ron and Hermione were nowhere in sight. He muffled a sigh and tore through the corridors, hoping he wouldn't run into anyone who'd order him to slow down. He could practically feel the seconds ticking away as he rushed to the next class and skidded to a stop before the door.

He was late—but Professor Flitwick merely gave him a look as two other late students came stumbling in after him. Harry gratefully hurried to a seat saved by Neville as Ron and Hermione were sitting together again and whispering heatedly to each other. Whatever it was, Hermione pulled away with a huff, crossing her arms and looking to the front. Ron tried to plead with her for a moment, before Professor Flitwick cleared his throat and class began.

Harry quickly found himself in the same predicament from Transfiguration. There was only so far he could go before the absence of his magic caused a bit of an issue. Professor Flitwick didn't call him out on it, but his disapproving frown said more than the little man himself, might have.

A slightly apologetic smile was the most that Harry could muster at that point. It didn't escape his notice either, that he was not the only one having trouble—Parvati had struggled some and so had Malfoy, along with Jennifer Dawn and Blaise Zabini. Harry soon found that his eyes sought them out every so often, regardless of whatever he was doing or trying to do in class. It was almost like a knee-jerk reaction, one that he couldn't control.

Thankfully, the little professor didn't seem to notice anything and Harry wasn't about to draw his attention to it. Relief was like a drink in the middle of the desert—and Harry took hold of it with both hands. It didn't take a genius to see that Ron and Hermione were engaged with each other the moment class let out and Harry knew to hurry to the next classroom before he resumed his earlier stream of convoluted logic. At least, he wouldn't be late.

The next class was DADA and there was some chattering amongst them all for the new professor had not shown up for the welcoming feast, nor had they been present at the staff table for breakfast this morning. It was a lovely little mystery of the most interesting kind and there were plenty of stories already flying around the room as to who and why.

Harry felt a faint shiver run through him as he fought the urge to squirm in his seat. All of his Dragel senses were screaming at him that this room was not safe. There were far too many dark memories associated with it—and the past DADA professors—with the exception Remus Lupin, certainly didn't help at all. Harry couldn't help feeling that this year would be just like all the others. There was nothing to suggest it would be otherwise.

He fought the urge to shiver and pushed it away, even as he felt a slight chill creep over him. The room was cooler than any of the other classrooms so far and he didn't like it. He much more preferred when everything was nice and toasty. His Dragel side preferred it, anyway. A scowl visited his face and stayed there.

Several long minutes passed by and the students shifted restlessly, the eerie air seeming to steal over them all and silencing the gossipy babblings.

The Gryffindors began to whisper amongst themselves and the Slytherins began to look rather uneasy.

Harry took note of both sides. To occupy himself, he took up his earlier musings and began to double check them.

As a matter of course, he darted a glance to Hermione and Ron who were engaged in another one of their whispered battles. He'd expected that and while he did wonder, briefly, what they were arguing about, he didn't care to ask them. It hadn't piqued his curiosity as it normally would, and his Dragel instincts had no particular inclinations towards them, so he ignored it. If it was important, then he'd know.

Neville was busy listening to something going on between Dean and Seamus that sounded like it might have had something to do with Quidditch or some other sports related thing. Parvati was sitting next to Jennifer Dawn instead of her best friend, Lavender and they were engaged in a polite conversation. Lavender sat by herself at the back of the room, reading Witch Weekly, with the occasional sniffle into her robe sleeve. Harry made a mental note of that, wondering what Lavender had done that would have Parvati set on her current track. He'd always thought the two of them were inseparable and their penchant for Divination hadn't really sat well with him.

But this version of Parvati was an entirely different one. She sat up straight and nodded and smiled in all the right places as she spoke with Jennifer and Harry finally took notice of the other Gryffindor girl. She wasn't really much to look at, mostly because she kept to herself, but he took a quick impression of her and stored it away for later use, if needed.

Her hair was a lovely auburn shade while her eyes were a very light shade of green, almost blue in their hue, when she happened to look in his direction and smiled—politely—before turning back to listen to whatever Parvati had been saying. It didn't escape his notice that she sat almost the same way that Parvati did.

The oddness of it struck him as strange. He filed that detail away for later thought as well.

The rest of the Gryffindors didn't seem to be doing much that warranted his attention, so Harry shifted his attention to the Slytherin side.

In stark contrast, every one of them seemed highly strung up—particularly Draco Malfoy. In fact, as far as Harry could recall, the blond had gotten progressively worse through the first two classes. He'd been all wonderful at the breakfast table and now as lunch approached, it seemed as if he was going to pieces.

To date, Harry couldn't recall having seen the white-blond ever that pale. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that Malfoy was trying his chances on becoming a ghost—and from the looks of it, doing a swell job. He was holding a single cord of black in his hand with two beads in which he worried between his fingers and his steel grey eyes remained fixed on some invisible point on the classroom wall. He didn't move.

Crabbe and Goyle didn't seem to think anything of it, as they didn't engage him in any way, but Harry had a feeling they were probably on orders to leave the blond alone and so were doing exactly that. It did bug him that the rest of his usual group was doing the same thing—including the mile-a-minute-mouth, Pansy Parkinson. She sat, calmly, to Draco's left and stared straight ahead at the classroom wall, just as he did. If he didn't value his life to some degree, Harry would have told her what a great impression of petrification she did.

He didn't though. He didn't think she'd appreciate it.

Daphne Greengrass, the dark-haired beauty with piercing blue eyes, sat ramrod straight, her thick hair hanging in soft waves around her oval-shaped face and there was a near visible crackle of magic around her. Harry blinked twice as he studied her and quickly averted his gaze when he felt those blue eyes shift in his direction.

Harry did notice that not one of the Slytherins were talking, but rather, they were all fidgeting—barely—but fidgeting nonetheless and growing more tense by the minute. They went from sitting in perfect, polite form to varying degrees of well, petrification. Head's straightening up, shoulders settling further behind, backs ramrod straight and feet firmly planted on the ground.

It was rather unnerving.

Harry had never seen them do that before—of course, he probably hadn't paid that close attention to them before, so it could be normal and he simply didn't know it. He did take careful note of the Slytherins that he knew, the tanned and generally good-looking Blaise Zabini, appeared relaxed, however, every so often, his left eyebrow would twitch as if the very act of sitting still and pretending that everything was just fine was one thing too many.

Theodore Nott chewed calmly on one of four chocolate frogs and Harry felt his own stomach rumble in reminder that he hadn't really given it much of a breakfast.

Millicent Bulstrode snuck glances at Daphne and Pansy adjusting her figure each time she did. Crabbe and Goyle did a fine impression of two lumps and nothing else.

With that little bit of spywork done, Harry then returned his attention to his schedule on the desk. He wasn't sure how much longer they were going to wait here, but if it was anymore than-

Everyone jumped when the classroom doors burst open.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And it's Harry's first day! He's made it through two classes without magic and he's skipped his breakfast. Ah, Harry. Now there's a new DADA teacher and what's up with Parvati? Btw, I've named the OFC Vampire, Ebony. ^_^ The updated pairing list is below! There have been mentions and descriptions for Jennifer Dawn, Parvati and Daphne in this chapter. Vote via PM or review. List will be adjusted by chapter until I decide. ONE VOTE per person (You may vote for multiple characters, but please vote only once, unless you're changing your vote). Thanks! ^_^  
><strong>

**Luna -5  
><strong>

**Daphne -6  
><strong>

**Parvati -2  
><strong>

**Padma -2  
><strong>

**Bellatrix -5  
><strong>

**Narcissa -4  
><strong>

**Gabriella -1  
><strong>

**Susan B. -5  
><strong>

**OFC(Vampire) "Ebony"-4**

**Jennifer Dawn (Gryffindor in Harry's Year) -1  
><strong>

**Pansy P. -3  
><strong>

**Millicent B. -2  
><strong>

**N. Tonks-5**

**Morgana le Fey -1**

**Perenelle Famel -1**

**Katie -1**

**Angelina -1**

**Alicia -1  
><strong>

**redstickbonbon**: I've added your suggestions to the list. (and glad you're enjoying the original version as well!) Thanks! ^_^

**Kitsune Shifter**: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I have plans for a Sophia later on in the story-so I've named the vamp for ya. ^_^ Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**sky is the limet & blood hunter**: Votes received! :)

**AlexTheGoth**: And here's another chapter! *grin* I aim to please. :P Tonks may just make the cut yet, there's quite a few votes for her Luna, Daphne and Bellatrix, with Narcissa coming up in there as well. LOL at giving Lucius to Sevvy. ^_^ Megan will make her appearance slowly and with feeling. Erm, I mean, she'll make her appearance soon-remember, she's a hufflepuff and as such, Harry doesn't run into her the way he would've with others. I'll try my best to make her a likeable character. I hate Mary Sue's, so if I start going off in that direction, yell loudly. :P Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	7. The New DADA Professor

**See chapter 1 for disclaimers/warnings/summaries.**

* * *

><p><em>PREVIOUSLY: <em>

_Harry's first day at Hogwarts has him hiding the fact that he does not have any magic. No one has noticed yet and the new DADA professor is about to make their appearance._

* * *

><p>There was nothing much to see at first, just a gaggle of trunks, parcels and long poster-sized parchments that entered the room, completely hiding the figure bearing them.<p>

The professor in question appeared several seconds later—when he set the items preceding him on the ground. He was a young man of fair build, his hair some indefinite shade of black and brown, settling out with snips of both colors speckled throughout with sea-blue-grey eyes and hands that were very small and very thin. He was dressed as a muggle, in black trousers and a blue hoodie-styled sweatshirt, with his teaching robes thrown over the crook of one arm and he looked quite definitely flustered.

"Ah, er." He gingerly set down the armful, turned and closed the door and muttered something at it, before he turned 'round and began to gather up the parcels. Several of them leapt back out of his arm and danced on the floor. He glowered at them. They stopped dancing and stacked themselves up and stood still. He scowled, then ignored them and turned his attention to the attentive class. "Er, my apologies." He said, politely. "I did not expect to be delayed and something came up. Just a moment." He left the stack by the door and carried his armful to the little door at the top where the little door let to the personal quarters. He disappeared inside and shut the door firmly behind him.

A moment later the classroom door slammed shut of its own accord, hiding the remaining parcels from view.

Whispers started up the at once.

"Did you see him?" Lavender Brown squealed. "He looks positively dreamy!"

"Those eyes." Another girl gushed. "Oh I hope he can teach us everything about defense and-ow!" Someone poked her. Several heated whispers started up in their corner of the room.

Pansy Parkinson gave a regal sniff from the other side of the room, but she didn't make a single disparaging comment to the other girl as she usually would. Her eyes, however, remained fixed on the recently locked door. A ripple of murmurs passed through the Slytherins and Harry followed Pansy's gaze to Draco, where the blond had finally moved, sitting straight up with his eyes locked on the recently closed door.

He realized that all the Slytherins were now sitting straight up and more relaxed than they'd been several seconds before. Daphne now sat with her ankles neatly crossed and a flicker of interest in her rich, blue-black eyes. Even Millicent had stopped copying her fellow female Slytherins and adopted a more formal pose as well, though her lips quirked to the side as if there were something slightly off that she didn't quite agree with.

Harry tucked that detail away for later use as he processed the rest of the new professor's entrance. A wave of warmth had filled the room as the new professor had walked past. In fact, Harry'd been close enough to almost touch him and it was if the man had been a walking fireplace! Harry swallowed. He could still feel the tingling of warmth all the way down to his toes. It felt good, very pleasant and rather satisfying, seeing as he'd been almost shivering just moments before. He tucked that detail, and a few more, away for later. Today was certainly proving itself to be a day of surprises and strangeness.

Or perhaps he'd simply never bothered to pay much attention to it before, Harry mused.

"Temptrificus Portgas!" A strong voice rang out.

He twitched, the closest his body allowed to an actual startled movement. It was almost as if it were ingrained into him to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

The students flinched as a whole and then nearly everyone leaned forward in their seats and stared.

Atop the desk, a glowing blue ring had formed and turned to a solid blue circle from which, the head and shoulders emerged of their new DADA professor. The rest of said professor immediately followed, this time, clad in his teaching robes and decidedly more wizard attire than the previous trousers and hoodie. He stood atop the desk for a moment, fixing his cuff sleeves and then raised his eyes to survey the room as if he'd just realized his students were there.

"Hello." He said, simply. "My name is Terius. I expect you to use it, if you have any questions. I prefer the title of Teacher, over Professor, but that is a personal preference and I will answer to both for now. I am your new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts. I shall try my utmost best to teach you something new and useful for a future point in your lives."

Terius folded his arms neatly across his chest. "This classroom setting will be distinctly different than that of your other classes. I expect you to show up on time and with all your materials, or you can spend the class period outside in the corridor." The blue-grey eyes narrowed. "Teaching is a part-time profession for me and if I am taking time out of my busy schedule to teach you, I expect you to show up on time. You will be responsible for any missed work or class teachings, if you miss a class, I expect to see you as soon as you are able. You will only be excused under extreme circumstances and by extreme, I do mean extreme with the accompaniment of a note for your resident healer." He frowned. "Or Medi-witch, whichever term is more familiar to you."

He bent to a crouch and uncrossing his arms, effortlessly swung himself from the desk to stand in front of it. "Firstly, what is taught in this classroom, remains in this classroom. There are some spells, experiments and subjects we will be covering that is not fully sanctioned by our dear Minister of Magic, however, in light of our current status at the reality of a possible wizarding war, I have been granted allowance to teach you wall what I see fit, in preparation for the future. You will not be practicing any of the spells learned here anywhere else, but in this classroom. If they are cast anywhere else for anything other than to save your very life, I will know and you do not want to know what I shall do about it."

A few students squirmed and several of them looked as if they were about to speak, when Terius lifted a hand. "In addition to the Minster of Magic, I also have Headmaster Dumbledore's explicit permission for what will be taught here. This is a significant responsibility that is being placed upon your shoulders, however, you are capable young adults and I expect you to show a modicum of common sense and sound logic in regards to this knowledge. You are your own person, so I expect to see intelligent questions and interactions, not what you think I expect of you. It has been made clear that your past professors of this subject may have been less than satisfactory, so I will be attempting to remedy this in my own way. Now, secondly, there will be practical exercises and demonstrations as mentioned earlier. You will all participate. You will only be excused if you have a signed permission slip from your parents, legal guardians and…"

The rest of the class went on and Harry found himself wishing he could disappear into the floor.

There was something about that man that made him feel as if he were looking straight through him. Harry didn't like it at all. It almost reminded him of Ginny's troublingly piercing gaze. He began to wish he'd taken a seat somewhere in the back—never mind that it might have others talking about it. His scar didn't hurt from the intense stares though, and Harry was thankful for that, hoping that perhaps for once, the new professor didn't have anything to do with old Voldy-shorts. It would be a most welcome relief.

It was exhausting to worry about his death every time he set foot in a classroom where he should've been taught ways to save himself. Terius' introduction had served to worry rather than reassure him, particularly with his mention of permissions from both Dumbledore and the Minster of Magic. Harry didn't want to know why exactly the man would need permissions.

Something told him didn't quite want to know why, just yet.

Thankfully though, Harry could tell within minutes, that he'd be able to get away without using magic, for at least the first few weeks as Professor Terius outlined his curriculum. He certainly did have a very different style of teaching and Harry hoped that was a good thing and not a bad one.

The classroom door banged open for the second time that period and this time, a decidedly different figure stood there. A young woman with very thick, curled hair sliced in a bob, angled sharply at her chin, her arms filled with the parcels Terius had left outside the door. A very obvious pout was on her face, enhanced by a very bright and very vivid outline of red lipstick. The contrast of black hair and red lipstick was blended by a lovely tanned complexion and soft brown eyes. She wore an odd costume of a sheath-like dress with leggings and a belt at the waist. Her shiny black boots reached up to her knees and there was a small bejeweled dagger hung on her belt.

Terius paused in mid-sentence and they shared a look.

She finally threw up her hands, the packages floating in front of her. "So fine, I got lost!" Her accent was thick and musical. "What was all of that babbling on you had to say about how a goat could pass through a gate of Eret's wisdom?" She gave a loud, unladylike snort. "The next time you have some brilliant idea-!" The rest of the sentence ended in another language. "¡Usted hombre estúpido tonto!*" She spat at him, stalking forward and around the taller man before stomping up the stairs, the packages floating merrily after her.

"¿Le jugaré al idiota a por favor?*" He called after her.

"¡estúpido!" She snapped back. "¡Le odio lamento que usted no estuviera muerto!*"

"I do not die that easily, Calida." He rubbed his forehead. "Shall I take it you do not care to be introduced today?"

A muffled scream was his answer.

The professor calmly turned back to the class. "That charming young lady happens to be my assistant." He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "Her name is Calida, you will treat her with the utmost respect." His gaze rested meaningfully on Draco Malfoy. "Am I understood?"

Murmurs of agreement came from the students and his smile upped a few watts. "Good! Now, in the future, she will be helping me with some of our more complicated in class exercises and demonstrations. She has quite a bit of practice with several different types of magic and if you should ever need help with something at a time when I am otherwise indisposed, you may take it up with her." He paused. "Now, for the rest of today…"

Harry tuned out after that. He managed to piece together that Calida had spoken Spanish and that whatever was going on between her and Terius was something that he should've been able to place. It bothered him, registering as a mental itch that he could not quite scratch. It didn't escape his notice that neither of the newcomers had introduced themselves with a last name.

The class time dragged on. Harry scribbled a few notes on his parchment and tried to pay attention, but his stomach was now making its displeasure known and he could literally feel his body threatening to shut down on him. That was definitely not good. He pinched his arms and then his thighs, trying use the small sparks of pain to keep himself awake. He was getting really, really tired.

One surefire way to give this entire act away on the first day was definitely to faint in the middle of what should've been his favorite class.

Harry gritted his teeth. He willed the Professor to hurry up and stop talking already. He just wanted out and he wanted lunch!

And a nap.

Yes, a nap would have to fit in there somewhere.

Several long, agonizing minutes later, Professor Terius glanced at the clock on the far wall, muttered something and then turned his back to the class. "You are dismissed early today, because I have a great deal of things to attend to. Read chapters one and two in your textbook and be ready to answer any questions. Dismissed."

The classroom began to clear.

"All except for Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini, Mr. Nott, Mr. Henry, Mr. Potter, Miss Patil, Miss Greengrass, Miss Bulstrode and Miss Dawn. A word, if you would?"

Hermione hovered in the doorway, as Ron took up residence beside him. They both shot worried looks at Harry and he could only shrug in response. He didn't have to be a genius to know that being singled out on the first day of class was a bad thing—not to mention the names that had been called with him. With the exception of Ryan Henry, Jennifer Dawn and Parvati the rest were all Slytherins.

"That does not include you, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley." There was a bored note in the professor's voice as he began to tap out the chalkboard eraser without getting dust on his dark teaching robes.

Ron's eyebrows arched clear up into his hairline and he dragged Hermione out with him, along with a pantomimed apology to Harry.

The boys in question slowed their movements and reluctantly made their way up to the professor's desk. He continued his decidedly unmagical method of erasing the giant chalkboard and turned them after the room had emptied. His piercing gaze swept quickly over the group and then he frowned as if what he saw didn't agree with what he was about to say. "Mr. Potter, you may leave." He made a dismissive wave with one hand and his gaze flickered next to Mr. Henry.

Harry didn't wait to figure out why. He left as fast as his legs could carry him and burst through the classroom door, smacking right into a solid body.

"Whoa, where's the fire?" Angelina Johnson caught him lightly around the shoulders as he came barreling through the classroom doors. She threw a curious look over Harry's shoulder into the near empty classroom. "That bad?" She looked to Harry. "Harry? Hey, are you alright? You look a little green around the-"

"I'm going to lie down until the next class period." Harry interrupted. He could feel the words tumbling out before he could double check them. He hoped he sounded normal. "Tell Ron or Hermione I'm fine, if they ask."

Angelina blinked. She was more likely to tell Fred or George, seeing as they were in the same year, but she didn't say that aloud. Instead, the tall girl cheerfully slapped a hand over Harry's forehead. "Are you alright? Dizzy? Fever? A little too much sugar or something? You can't just get sick on me, this is barely the first day and we've got to have-"

"I'm fine. Really." Harry flashed a smile and jerked away from the hands as quick as he could. The very touch of them made his head spin—in a bad way—and it was almost as if his Dragel side was screaming at him to get as far as way as possible. Harry didn't have the energy to puzzle out why. He could feel his stomach threatening to rebel and knew he needed to get out the hallways and somewhere safe as fast as he could. "I just need to lie down. It's a headache. A little one. I didn't get to sleep much last night. 'Scuse me." And Harry bolted.

Harry felt the familiar prickles of unease dancing just out of reach through his exhausted body. He could feel the older girl's eyes on him, even as he rounded the corner of the hallway and hurried on to Gryffindor Tower. He didn't like them. It was as if the eyes were trying to see deeper than the surface, to find out what was going on with him.

It should have bothered him.

But as his stomach began to rebel, Harry, for once, absolutely didn't care.

* * *

><p>He spent the next several minutes heaving over a toilet in the boy's lavatories.<p>

There was precious little to come up, but his stomach wasn't happy until it had tried its best.

Exhausted, Harry sank down on the floor of the bathroom stall and worked to pull himself together. He was feeling so incredibly tired, he couldn't think straight. The moment he was able, he headed for Gryffindor tower. Lunch could wait—indefinitely.

Harry skipped lunch. His formerly protesting stomach had no questions about that the moment he considered sleep over food. It was as if his body immediately agreed and began shutting down just as it had threatened to in DADA.

No further thought was needed, Harry just flopped onto his bed and moaned for Dobby with the last tendrils of his consciousness clinging to him. "Wake me up before the next class." He instructed, wearily, when the house elf seemed about to launch into a barely contained panic attack. "I gotta sleep, Dobby." Was all he managed to get out before his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and Harry Potter had gone to the land of nod.

* * *

><p><em>*Translations for Calida and Terius' argument (translations are not literal):<em>

"¡Usted hombre estúpido tonto!" = You stupid foolish man!

"¿Le jugaré al idiota a por favor?" = Shall I play the idiot to please you?

"¡estúpido!" "¡Le odio lamento que usted no estuviera muerto!" Stupid. I hate you. I wish you were dead!

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you all for the kind reviews and suggestions! Since most of the questions asked are going to be answered in the next few chapters, I'll just ask for y'all to hold on a bit, alright? This fic is to focus on Harry and his personal growth. I am using abuse from the Dursley's as a plot point and tweaking it to fit what I want in this fic. (Hence the AU). Harry will have to work past this. He's had years of experience at sneaking and keeping his secrets hidden-if he really didn't want anyone to know anything, he'd find a way to make it happen. **

**NOTE: Parvati is in Gryffindor and Padma is in Ravenclaw, like the books-NOT the movies! and Calida cannot be included in the votes.  
><strong>

**sirnikolas**: Thank you very much! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Ron, Ginny and Hermione are all going to play a different part in this fic. I'll be getting to them soon. The early mentions of them now is so I don't have to do a ton of backstory later on. I'm glad you liked the Parvati twist. I was hoping it worked out well.

**ghostwriter84**: The Slytherins seem to know something that everyone else doesn't...hmmm. You'll see soon. :) No worries-there won't be any Hermione or Ginny with Harry in this fic. There's plenty of that out there. I want this fic to have a different twist. Megan is definitely one of his Dragel Mates though.

**kyzhart**: Yes, Harry is the Sub in this fic as well. :D I'm glad you liked my version of Parvati. I can't wait to write some more of her. (and glad you're enjoying both versions.) ^_^

**darkrusnik05**: Glad you like it. I'll almost always update on the weekend, even if I don't update during the week. :)

**smoss**: You're right! Someone should notice-but Harry has been able to slip by with things like his treatment of the Dursley's and he didn't really "not" transfigure the washcloth-he made it jump around, or so it seemed. It could just be an off day, so there's no reason for anyone to really suspect anything, at this moment, Harry is the only one who knows that he doesn't have any magic.

**kitsune shifter **: Glad you're enjoying it. Don't worry-there's plenty of secrets revealed in upcoming chapters. It just takes a while to rewrite.

**nightwolfsilver**: Votes received! :)

**Green Oblivion **: Your English is quite fine! I've actually started the fic out rather slow on purpose. Since this is a rewrite of the original story for a diff. audience, I've had to tweak a few things. One of them was a way to set up the backstory without having an info dump later on in the fic. So, I've started it slow, with the intent of things picking up in future chapters. Thank you for the suggestion though-the next chapters should have plenty of things happening. I'm more focused on the people and their personal growth/relationships in this fic, so there will be some slow moments, but I hope to make the entire read worthwhile. ^_^ Thanks for reading! (and votes received!)

**AlexTheGoth**: *hands calming draught* There, there, now just calm down and everything will be alright. XD Did you mean Tonk's metamorphagus abilities? I'm glad I am making things interesting. I hope to give many of the characters some different facets so when the actual mates are all chosen, etc, it fits them and Harry. I intend to have a good mix of old/young though, simply because it would make sense. (and the votes currently reflect that). Hope this chapter was good!

**Luna -12  
><strong>

**Daphne -10  
><strong>

**Parvati -7  
><strong>

**Padma -6  
><strong>

**Bellatrix -8  
><strong>

**Narcissa -7  
><strong>

**Gabriella -1  
><strong>

**Susan B. -9**

**Hannah A. -2  
><strong>

**Vampire "Ebony"-5**

**Jennifer Dawn -3  
><strong>

**Pansy P. -3  
><strong>

**Millicent B. -4  
><strong>

**N. Tonks-9**

**Katie -2**

**Angelina -1**

**Alicia -1**


	8. Musings in Potions Class

**See chapter 1 for disclaimers/warnings/summaries. Give yourself a pat on the back if you've already read them. I'm proud of you! ^_^  
><strong>

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><p><em>PREVIOUSLY: <em>

_Harry's first day at Hogwarts has him hiding the fact that he does not have any magic. No one has noticed yet. The new DADA professor is named Terius and has an interesting teacher's assistant, a girl by the name of Calida._

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><p>An anxious Dobby woke him with fifteen minutes to get to his next class. Harry begged the house elf to find him some Pepper-up potion and a snack. A doubly anxious Dobby returned with a corked vial and several sections of a chunky purple fruit on a long skewer. A fruit that Harry had never seen before.<p>

"Dobby?" Harry eyed it suspiciously.

"This be good fruit for Harry Potter, sir." Dobby pushed the skewer to his unwilling hands. "Dobby be helping in a good way!"

The strange fruit, surprisingly, wasn't too bad. It filled his stomach and soothed his dry throat. Harry hoped he wasn't coming down with anything serious. The very last thing he wanted to do was visit the infirmary and see the disapproving glower of a certain Madam Pomfrey.

Relieved and somewhat more awake, Harry made it to the next class of the day managed to stay somewhat awake. The final class of the day was potions and Harry was not looking forward to it. He had a feeling Snape would see through his foggy mental and physical state and find some way to make a mockery of his entire effort to be there.

He didn't know if he could stand it.

Harry was surprised to find that he was not the only one walking slowly towards the dungeons. There were a few others and one of the laggers happened to be a certain blond Malfoy. The blond moved slowly and carefully, his silvery eyes occasionally shifting to take stock of his surroundings as he moved. Without the usual accompaniment of his cronies or Pansy Parkinson, there was something decidedly off about the Slytherin and something different in the way he moved. His footsteps were light and his posture was far too relaxed for it to be natural.

Harry quickened his step and trotted past, unable to keep from sneaking a sideways glance. For a moment, emerald eyes locked with pure silver ones, a look of pure fright cracked through the pureblood's mask. Then, as quick as it had appeared, it flickered away and Draco turned his eyes straight ahead as if he'd never seen Harry at all.

The unusual moment was enough to prompt Harry to look back, but when he did, Draco's mask was stubbornly back in place and his head was held high once more as if Harry was nothing but a speck of dust on the bottom of his shoe.

Brushing it off, Harry continued on. He couldn't afford to waste his precious waking moments thinking—being awake simply cost him too much at the moment. He was so tired! The Pepper-up seemed to be fizzling out just as fast as it had given him a boost. He grimaced and sighed, remembering the night of his inheritance and the fact that he'd apparently slept for nearly two weeks afterwards. He'd woken exhausted, cranky and feeling drained, in spite of the temporary wonderment over his new Dragel attributes.

_Magic probably left then_, he mused to himself.

Visualizing the weariness as something he could stuff in a box, Harry mentally gathered it up and shoved it in a corner. The trick sort of worked as he willed the Pepper-up to hold him out for just a little bit longer.

The door to the potions classroom came into sight and Harry quickened his step with the little snippet of energy he could barely spare.

* * *

><p>Potions was harder than Harry could ever remember it being.<p>

For the first day, it wasn't really that bad. In fact, everything was the usual mix of chaos and confusion that he'd come to associate with Hogwarts and the first school day and consequently, the first school week. It was always like that and the normality of it should have provided some semblance of comfort—not panic and a short temper.

Harry found himself becoming snappish and increasingly furious as the last portion of the day wore on. Potions was his last straw. He couldn't understand it at all, but he didn't have time to puzzle through it. It was hard to keep his temper in check and hard to keep from saying things that he knew wouldn't go over well.

He couldn't remember if Ron was always this annoying, Hermione always so frustrating and Ginny always so irritating. He was thankful he'd been spared their company at lunch and that Ginny wasn't in the same classes as he was. He didn't think that he would've been able to handle it.

As it was, when Professor Snape split them up and paired them with Slytherins, Harry was more than happy to be away from his fellow housemates. There was a restless undercurrent traveling through them and he didn't like the unease that his new instincts screamed at him. It was constantly warning him that something bad loomed ahead. Harry hoped it was just a feeling not an actual premonition.

Premonitions were bad things.

Usually.

He tried to focus on the lesson, grateful that the Pepper-up at least allowed him to be awake enough to make an effort. The mental trick for his exhaustion seemed to be working—somewhat. He only hoped it would last.

His attention returned to the present and Harry realized that he didn't really know the tanned fellow he was paired up with, but he knew the name associated with the face. That realization wad enough for him to maintain a civil front for the sake of appearances. Millicent Bulstrode, was, by Harry's own admission, a rather boring and plain girl with ordinary brown-black hair and equally boring gold eyes.

Gold eyes.

Harry did a double take. A closer look showed at that her pale, hazel eyes weren't really brown at all, but a very rich, very vivid shade of gold. They sparkled to life when they caught Harry staring.

It made him swallow in surprise. He could only vaguely recall their interactions being less than stellar in moments such as these. She'd been part of Dolores' esteemed Inquisitorial Squad the year before—and had been with the group that had caught him and the others in the pink-witch's office trying to use the floo connection.

A floo call that could've helped to straighten out a tangle of things before Sirius had come charging in to his own death.

Harry suppressed a shudder.

He really shouldn't be thinking of these things.

His green-eyed gaze flickered back to his new potions partner.

"See something interesting, Potter?" Millicent teased, a playful light sparking in her dark eyes and prompting a more lovely expression to her simple features. She'd bent over to grab something from her school bag and caught his stare locked on her figure, her slightly chubby figure had morphed into a stocky, muscular build and while her face had lost some of its roundness, Harry was suddenly aware that the change had done her good. She would definitely remain tomboyish for her days, but the lack of obvious curves and a carefully manicured face didn't detract from anything. "Something really nice, perhaps?" There was absolutely no hint of condescension in her voice, though the touch of warmth was decidedly unexpected—as was the wink that followed.

Harry found himself nearly blushing and promptly scolded himself for having such an obvious reaction as he looked away. "N-nothing." He stammered, avoiding those laughing eyes.

"Nothing?" Millicent repeated, incredulous. She threw a look over her own shoulder and gave a slight wiggle of her hips. "Nothing interesting, he says." She muttered. "Well, thank you for that lovely bit of honesty." She gave an amused snort. "Should I try again?"

Harry opened and shut his mouth, before he really did blush this time. He immediately redirected his attention and tried to focus on the words on the page between them bearing the potion ingredients. The words were starting to dance together before his eyes. He did manage, however, to give a quick shake of his head.

"I'm heartbroken." Millicent said, cheerfully. "And here I was about to congratulate myself for all that hard work finally paying off." She tucked a few strands of dark hair behind one white ear. "Are you alright? You look a little-"

"I'll get the other ingredients." Harry said, hastily. He was on his feet and gone before the Slytherin girl could protest. He took his time rummaging through the cabinet and extracting the necessary bottles, before he cradled them carefully in his arms and began to walk back to the shared table.

He thought he saw the flicker of movement before it registered that someone had tripped him. Harry felt his breath catch and everything slowed to a point where it felt like life was playing by in slow-motion. He knew he would fall and ruin the ingredients in his arms as well as his entire day—there was no way a simple fall like that would result in anything else but injuries from sharp pieces of glass. He'd end up in the infirmary, in spite of his careful hopes to avoid it and he'd be subjected to Madam Pomfrey's tender mercies.

He closed his eyes for the impact that never came.

Strong, slender arms caught him about the shoulders and braced to take his weight, before easing him upright.

Harry's eyes flew open and he found himself staring into a pale face with unreadable grey eyes and a familiar—but muted—sneer. "Two left feet, Potter?" He said, snidely. The blond steadied him with a hidden hand. "Do try and put one foot in front of the other. It'd be a waste of potions' ingredients otherwise." Draco nudged him in the direction of Millicent's table and stepped out into the aisle moving up towards the ingredient cabinet to retrieve his own necessary ingredients.

Harry snuck a glance around the room to see that others had noticed the little exchange and it was only Hermione who eyed him with pursed lips, while Ron seemed torn between saying something and keeping quiet. Harry hurried over to the worktable and carefully set the ingredients down. He tried to focus on the potion and the instructions, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the precious seconds in Malfoy's arms.

The earlier incident had piqued his curiosity. Something had been off there—and he wanted to know what it was. There hadn't been a hint of the fright that he'd seen in Malfoy's eyes earlier and it was almost as if he'd gone through a complete transformation from the moment he'd entered the Potion's Classroom. There was also a familiar scent to the boy that Harry also couldn't place, but his mind was too tangled to puzzle it out in the middle of class.

"Potter, Potter—Harry!" Millicent snapped her fingers in front of his face. She perked a brow when Harry flinched and leaned away. "Oh nevermind!" She sighed, the faintest furrow in wide forehead. "You're pants at Potions, aren't you?"

"Well excuse me for-" Harry began, pushing away from the table to glare at her. The last thing he really wanted to do was to be working with her out of all the Slytherins present in the classroom was pushing what little good humor he decidedly did not have to spare.

But Millicent caught his hands quickly in hers, moving with surprising quickness and held them over the cutting board. "Dice." She ordered, dropping his cool hands. "Don't do anything else. You can dice, can't you?" She verified when it looked as if Harry was about to object.

Harry didn't answer. He just yanked his hands back out of reach, trying not to pay any attention to the fact that her hands had been warm—very warm—and rough. With a scowl, he began to viciously dice said ingredients.

Millicent snorted. "I'm trying to help." She blew a strand of hair out of her face. The teasing tone returned to her voice as she leaned over to whisper in Harry's ear. "I think you'd agree that it'd be nice to explode anything today, right?"

Harry shifted uneasily as her warm minty breath gushed over his ear. He quickly bent his head over the cutting board and began to dice the wrinkly brown root in as even squares as he could muster. It was cold in the dungeons, as usual, but now that he had noticed, simply being near to Millicent seemed to chase the coldness away. She was warm and nearly radiating a gentle heat as she worked around him with quiet efficiency.

Surprisingly, they managed an acceptable potion between them and Harry managed to slip out of the room without any further incidents—as far as blushing went anyway.

"Hiya Harry!" Terry Boot, from Ravenclaw waved at him as he passed in the hallway. "Is it true that you-"

"Hey!" Seamus glared at him. He'd appeared at Harry's side the moment class had let out, as if in Ron and Hermione's stead. "He doesn't need to hear about that rubbish from the likes of his own-"

"Harry, mate!" Ron stood at the end of the hallway looking flustered. "Hurry up!"

And so Harry hurried.

* * *

><p>He tried and failed to piece together what it was that everyone was supposedly not asking him about, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He only knew that something was slightly off and he didn't think it had anything to do with the issues at Azkaban. He'd have to figure it out on his own later. For the meantime, he just needed to keep everything together and Hermione from trying to pry all his secrets free.<p>

In the midst of dinner however, Hermione finally had her chance. She'd managed to sit between Harry and Ron and once her redheaded-friend was stuffing his face, she turned her attention on the smaller boy. "Harry, what did Professor Terius want this afternoon? Is everything alright? Where were you during lunch? We saved your seat and you didn't show up and-"

"He didn't say." Harry said, quickly filling his mouth. He knew one of the best ways to distract Hermione was either through a forceful change of subject or something equally visually distracting. Stuffing his face as Ron did might make him sick for a bit, but it would certainly send Hermione into a different kind of fit. "He looked at me and then said I could go." He shrugged. "I don't know what he wanted. He never said."

Hermione frowned. "Why would he call you and then send you away without saying anything?" She elbowed Ron. "Chew with your mouth closed." Her gaze flickered back to Harry. "You too, Harry, that's disgusting!" She wrinkled her nose. "We should all keep an eye on him. There's something strange about him and we need to know what it is." She nodded across the table to Ginny, who was tucked up with the Twins, as usual, the Weasley's eating together out of habit. "Did he do anything strange in your class, Ginny?"

The redheaded girl shook her head in thought. "Not really, but I didn't see him do anything. He mostly talked."

"Didn't use a-"

"wand though." The Twins chorused.

"Thought it was odd, Gred."

"Thought so myself, Forge."

The twins beamed at each other and went back to their respective dinners.

"Didn't use a wand?" Hermione mused, her eyes glazing over as the mental wheels began to turn. "Wandless magic is dangerous and very difficult to perform. I don't think I've ever seen another professor use wandless magic—not even Professor Dumbledore." Her lips pursed. "Parvati," She turned to the slender Indian girl who had taken up residence beside Harry once more. "He asked you to stay back too, didn't he? What did he want?"

Dusky lips quirked into a half-smile. "Something about wanting to know if I really had a twin in Ravenclaw." She shrugged. "He also wanted to know if I had any objections to the curriculum."

"But why?" Hermione frowned. "He didn't ask anyone else-"

"My parents are pureblood." Parvati said, stiffly. "And I am well aware of what they permit me to study and what they do not." She rose from the table, her plate in hand. "Eat up, Harry." She then turned away and strode across the Great Hall to the Ravenclaw table, where a spot opened magically between her twin, Padma and a white-blonde head of hair, Luna Lovegood.

Hermione's narrowed eyes followed her progress all across the room, but the bushy-haired witch didn't press the issue. She did take a glance at Harry's face and noted that he was eating better than he had at the welcoming feast. Her mind then immediately diverted to more interesting things. The new DADA professor had used wandless magic. "Wandless magic…" She murmured. "That's almost dark isn't it? No wait, that only depends on…" And her voice trailed off as she was caught in her own musings.

Harry stifled the urge to roll his eyes. That was somewhat true, but when you had tremendous amounts of magical power at your disposal, wandless magic helped to burn off the excess—at least, that was what Dumbledore had once told him—and Harry had seen the old man use it a few times on occasion. Maybe he was lucky. He'd always wished he could learn it for himself. It'd looked like fun.

"Now that I think of it, most professors use a spell to write on the boards." Hermione mused. "He wrote with his hand and he didn't seem very accustomed to it either. He also didn't use charms to clean the board." She frowned into her dinner plate and began to mutter book titles beneath her breath. An evening of research was certainly in the works

Harry was glad for that. It meant that she'd likely end up in the library on the grounds of research. He felt a yawn coming on and stifled it, impatiently. The Pepper-up had barely managed to get him through classes, though the minute he thought of dinner, his body seemed to revive itself. He hoped the temporary awareness would last long enough for him to get some other things done. For now, he could trek along to the library with her and get in with the same library pass to take a look on what Hogwarts had to offer about Dragels.

He could use all the information he could get!

Another yawn threatened to come and Harry forcefully willed it away as he focused on emptying his dinner plate. He was busy with his own musings and thoughts and never noticed the Indian sisters watching him intensely from the other side of the room or Ginny's pointed frown in his direction.

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><p><strong>AN: And VOTES ARE NOW CLOSED! I am no longer accepting any votes, I have all that I need and I know where the story is heading now. Thank you all very much for taking the time to vote and special thanks to those of you who also voted via PM. **

**waulkeepaintballer, Lazy Eyes Conway, Teon, Dark Dragen, Penny is wise, : **Votes received.

**Alex The Goth: **Aw, thanks! I think you'll like the outcome. ^_^ At the bottom of my profile, I have a running tally of the current differences between both fics. I had one in my notes, so I could keep it straight and then I figured I'd share. It's not too many differences just yet. I'll update after I post new chapters here.

**Nargus: **I'm sorry it's too angst, that's actually pretty light on the angst for me. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing though. I suppose I ought to include in my fic warnings that I do love to torture my characters to some degree, so the drama bit is to be expected. ^_^

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I appreciate it. You make me smile. ^_^ **


	9. In The Library

**See chapter 1 for disclaimers/warnings/summaries. See Note after A/N below, for general fic information.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>PREVIOUSLY: <em>

_Harry's first day at Hogwarts has him hiding the fact that he does not have any magic. No one has noticed yet. The new DADA professor is named Terius and has an interesting teacher's assistant, a girl by the name of Calida. As the first day comes to an end, Hermione is curious about Professor Terius and they decide to visit the library for research.  
><em>

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><p>The library smelled of dust, dirt and history.<p>

Harry obediently followed Hermione and company through the doors, keeping his head down as usual. Things always worked best when he kept his head down, it was almost a guarantee that he'd be invisible.

Sometimes, invisible was a good thing.

A very good thing.

He listened half-heartedly as Hermione and Ron bickered in whispers and pretended not to notice Madam Prince's disapproving glare as the argument became a little louder than necessary at one point.

Eventually, he slipped out of his seat and trotted off to investigate the shelves on his own.

He didn't think anyone would miss him.

No one did.

After careful searching, Harry finally made his way to the front desk, hoping that perhaps, Madam Prince might be tending to more important matters than the desk and he'd be able to ask one of the older students about finding creature books.

The stern matron peered down at him from over her crooked nose with a gaze that seemed to pierce his careful mask. "What do you want this time?" She demanded, thin-lipped.

Harry squared his shoulders. "I was looking for books on rare magical creatures." He swallowed. "Any kinds of reference."

She sniffed, disapprovingly. "Such a broad topic? Nothing specific? Do you have any idea how many books hold references to magical creatures, much less the rare ones?"

"Well, it's for a-" Harry began.

"Spare me the lies." Her left eyebrow twitched, faintly. "I don't need to hear it. I hear enough of them already." She grumbled a bit more beneath her breath and then turned away. "Narrow down your subject search to a specific animal and then return."

"But-!"

"Go. Shoo!" She wrinkled her nose.

Harry hesitated, but retreated anyway. He doubted that she'd be of much help anyway. He turned his footsteps towards the study table where he'd left Ron and Hermione and as he rounded the corner, he smacked into something warm and soft, with sharp, hard edges. There was a muffled grunt and something that might have been a squeak, before he heard the speaker's quiet apology.

"Oh my goodness, Merlin, I didn't even see you, I was so busy working on—Harry?" Megan blinked over at him from where she'd been knocked to the floor, clutching a precious armful of books. "Hi."

Harry stared back and then caught himself. "Hi." He hadn't known that Madam Prince would take on a library helper, but there was a little badge on Megan's robes declaring her to be just that—a junior librarian.

The Hufflepuff smiled warmly at him and fluidly rose to her feet, accepting one of the stray floating books that Harry handed over. A softly scented hint of lavender seemed to surround her as she moved and the smile on her face lit it with a gentle glow. "Thanks for catching that. Madam Prince would have my head if it was anywhere but in my hands."

Harry almost smiled back. "You're welcome." He answered, out of habit.

"Here to study already?" She inquired, shifting the armful and carefully levitating the stack to a floating, hovering tower once more. "They didn't assign any homework for us yet." Her smile softened. "I don't think they should be allowed to hand out homework on the first day." Her conspiratorial whisper was accompanied by a wink.

This time, Harry did smile. "I agree." He murmured.

"Personal reading then?" She prompted, pausing by one shelf to extract two volumes and store them neatly on the shelf.

_Oh why not_? Harry thought, exasperated. "Actually, I was looking for a book on rare magical creatures, I don't suppose you know where they are?"

"Any editions or titles in particular?" Megan asked, cheerfully. She began to walk again, the stack of books floating easily after her.

"Er, no. I guess a really old one." Harry admitted. He hadn't thought that far and he didn't really want to give away anything.

"Anything in particular you're looking for?" She clarified.

Harry cringed inwardly. "No."

"Okay!" She flashed him another smile and made a sharp turn to the left. "How many do you want? There's an entire series by Eldeeria Lynth, on a collection of creatures considered partial, because there is some proof that they exist, but not enough for official, legal classification." She waved her wand at something on one of the upper shelves. A moment later, several thick tomes floated down to rest in her arms. She happily turned them over to Harry's surprised hands. "You can look through these first, they're the most comprehensive." She flicked her wand again and her everpresent stack of books began to shelve themselves. "If you find something you want to know more on, I'll be working over there." She pointed to a corner. "Or you can use the summoner, if you have a library pass."

"A what?"

"That's okay. If you don't know what it is, then you probably don't have one." She said, regretfully. "I can't really help you there. It's given to students who write consistently outstanding essays and require a great deal of research." She nodded towards a chained pedestal in the corner. "If you have a pass, then it's like a token, you feed it to the book and then write down what you're looking for and if it can't summon it directly to your hands, you're given step-by-step instructions." She grinned. "It is rather fun to use." She chewed on her lower lip. "But if you don't have a pass, it doesn't work. But never mind that, I'll be right over there if you need anything." She pointed again and with a slight wave, was off.

Harry watched her go, feeling a slight twinge at her absence. He brushed it off, mentally, and turned his attention towards the stack of books in his arms. They were getting heavy!

* * *

><p>Three weeks passed before anyone noticed that Harry's magic was missing.<p>

He was also becoming unnaturally tired again.

Quite frankly, Harry didn't know how he'd really managed to get away with it for so long. He'd expected Hermione to pick up on it first and most certainly, he'd expected to find himself in Dumbledore's office within the first week, where his unexplained fits of drowsiness had left him crabby, snappy and irritable. When neither of those realities had come through by the second week, Harry didn't know what to think.

He knew that there were eyes watching—goodness, he could practically feel it in his every waking moment—yet, somehow, the eyes hadn't gotten him into any trouble, nor had they given themselves away. Harry didn't know what to think. On one hand, he was grateful for the reprieve, because he honestly had no way to really explain it without mentioning his creature inheritance and that was one tidbit of news he was not willing to share.

On the other hand, he was definitely disappointed. He'd hoped that his magic would've come back by now and as far as he could tell, with what little information he'd gleaned in the library, there shouldn't be any reason why he was magic-less. He'd managed to work out a little bit of a routine and so far, he'd been managing. He'd used Pepper-up potion to strategically keep himself awake during the first week when he was all but tripping over his own feet for being so exhausted.

The second week had left him with little improvement and a very short temper, to the point where Ginny, Ron and even the twins had both teased him that all he needed was red hair to be able to claim the 'famous Weasley temper'. Harry hadn't found it very funny at all. Neither had Parvati, or Jennifer, which was rather odd, but Harry chose not to dwell on those sorts of details.

But of course, for his efforts, his temper had blown over and he'd had grovel in his apologies to Hermione and bribe both Ron and Ginny to keep their friendship intact. The twins had accepted his apologies with a few roundabout ones of their own, promising not to bother him if it troubled him so deeply. Harry tucked that away as yet another detail to puzzle through later.

He was surprised to notice a rather obvious change in his fellow housemates. They weren't as open and friendly as he could recall from the previous year, though of course, they had all generally been ignoring him for the past two years, but he'd thought things were improving. At least, he had kind of hoped. While it suited him just fine, after all, there were supposed to be advantages to being invisible, Harry thought he was starting to imagine things.

There were little moments, like being excluded from Seamus and Dean's private conversations, suspicious glances from the girls, Lavender and Romilda—an odd and somewhat frightening duo—if he considered it, and how their whispered conversations stopped when he entered a room. One moment too many and then, Harry'd had enough. No one would tell him what had been in the papers the other day and Hermione had been quite adamant that it wasn't any of his business to know. It didn't keep his imagination from running wild however and sooner than he'd liked, Harry scented and catalogued them each individually.

He was only mildly disappointed to find that apart from Parvati, Jennifer and the Weasley twins, there weren't any others that he felt comfortable enough to trust. He had suspected as much, considering their recent cordial manners towards him and his inclination to gravitate towards them when Hermione, Ron and Ginny's bickering became too much. The trio's scents were fading on him—fading into something that he didn't like at all.

What had started out strong at the beginning of the semester was now beginning to quite obviously wane.

Of course, apart from the inner house drama, there were other interesting things to note.

In the meantime, he'd learned that Professor Terius really did prefer Teacher or simply Terius and that he had the ability to run his classroom with an almost military precision. His assignments were standardized and he had students write down their questions to ask after the lecture—he didn't like being interrupted—something that bugged Hermione to no end. There was absolutely no messing around in his classroom and you didn't dare so much as think of sleeping. For some reason, whenever he entered the classroom, all thoughts of sleeping, exhaustion or hunger simply fled. Harry didn't know what to make of that, but it had begun to become a little bit of a safe haven, he liked feeling normal for the short class period and he longed for things to go back to the way they'd been.

Sometimes, it was a pain to realize things, such as the changing scents of his friends, how some people thought it was okay to lie straight to his face and how annoying it was to be cold all the time. He couldn't even cast a simple warming charm, though he had managed to coax Hermione to do it for him a few times. He'd considered buying clothes with charms installed on them, but then that had seemed like too much trouble and he knew when he returned home for the summer, his dear Uncle Vernon would either pitch a fit and get rid of them or both.

Harry also continued to keep his eyes and ears open. In doing so, he found that Meagan Jones was a very likable young woman and they'd managed to enter a suitable bartering system of chocolate frogs for the delicious skewers and snacks her parents sent from home. Harry was relieved to find that it helped with his cravings for raw meat and Megan didn't seem to mind at all. He often found his way to the library every other night of the week and he'd help her sort books and they'd laugh about things that didn't make any sense.

She was easier to keep company than Hermione and though she could be quite the serious student, Harry was relieved to find that it wasn't the smothering kind of overachieving notions that Hermione seemed to have ingrained in her very self. Megan had the patience of a saint and an endless supply of snacks that seemed to come from a bottomless little waistpouch she wore beneath her robes.

Harry decided that he definitely liked her. He also noted that she smelled quite a bit of chocolate and lavender and even closer in trustworthiness than the twins. It was a development he hadn't quite expected it.

Harry soon found himself running into said Hufflepuff on a regular basis to the point where he felt comfortable to ask about the family heirloom the brunette always seemed to have on her person. Megan had chuckled at his request and told him to ask the next time they ran into each other, before heading off to her next class. Harry had thoughtfully made a note to do so. Megan was quickly changing his opinion of Hufflepuffs in general and the more he looked, the more Harry found that they weren't really that different.

There were more things they had in common than he'd ever thought—Gryffindor loyalty might even pale beside the staunch comradeship among Puffs. Megan was friends with almost everyone it seemed, house rivalries meant nothing in her eyes.

That, Harry discovered, was wonderful.

On the other hand, Millicent Bulstrode became an incurable flirt. At least, that was the only excuse Harry could conjure for the pureblooded tomboy. While Harry couldn't deny that it felt, well, nice, to have someone actively paying attention to him in _that_ way. Millicent had an uncanny knack for getting him flustered, embarrassed and aroused at the absolute worst possible times—in Potions class! Nothing Harry had been able to do or say convinced the Slytherin girl to turn her eyes elsewhere—not in the three weeks he'd been trying, anyway. Of course, the closer Millicent was, the less cold it was in the dungeons, as the girl seemed to be a walking personal heater. It was an internal tug of war as Harry alternately suffered from frozen fingers and toes or the heat of embarrassment. He didn't know how Millicent could stand to say such embarrassing things aloud.

Of course, Harry had suffered more than enough Snape Death Glares in the first two weeks it had taken to adjust to the Slytherin girl's brand of teasing. He didn't know how he'd manage the rest of the year, but at least, he was sort of learning something about potions. Millicent had immediately taken it upon herself to be sure that Harry did an equal and fair amount of work, even if it was just preparing the ingredients and reading the instructions out loud. Most of the time though, Harry had to admit that she really didn't help at all, at least, not where it would've counted.

It most certainly didn't help when she muttered to herself in that a rather sexy Latin tongue and when her wandering hands occasionally found themselves in places on Harry's person that left Harry red in the face just thinking about. He'd all but dumped their cauldron on the girl's head the last time he'd found her hands wandering a little lower than he'd liked.

How it had happened, he didn't even want to know!

Harry shook his head to bring himself back to the present of his thoughts. He was on his way to the breakfast table in the Great Hall and he couldn't afford to zone out so early in the day. He sighed to himself as he trooped along obediently behind Ron and Hermione. From their scents, he was easily piecing things together—the two were obviously dating or at least doing what some dating couples did—and he could smell it. He wondered why they hadn't said a word to him yet, but figured that perhaps they were simply waiting for something. He reasoned that they would tell him on their own time.

The past week, he'd also noticed a new change, scent-wise. Jennifer and Parvati now had drastically different scents from everyone else. Even Ginny's scent, which had been a bit murky for a bit, had also begun to change over the past week to something that Harry didn't know what to make of as yet. He tucked the detail away as a mental note to decipher it later—he'd gotten better at doing that. Jennifer and Parvati now reminded him of Megan, as they smelled rather acceptable and—for lack of a better word—delightful. Harry had caught himself subconsciously sneaking a few good whiffs whenever they were around and smiling a little more when happy buzzes sang through his body at the pleasing scents.

His Dragel-self apparently liked it quite a bit.

A blur of blond hair out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and Harry turned to see Draco Malfoy surreptitiously moving along with the shuffle of breakfast bound students—without his usual gaggle of cronies. Harry followed him with his eyes until Malfoy reached the Slytherin table and then, almost instantly, a seat opened up for him between Blaise and Pansy Parkinson.

Harry frowned. It was a common enough gesture for the Slytherins, they were careful and kept to their own, but it was Malfoy that Harry had his eye on. He hadn't been able to figure out the blond at all. Some days, it seemed as if Malfoy was on fire and every inch the cold, heartless bastard that Harry had pegged him for, yet, in other moments—small fleeting moments—Harry had seen him almost vulnerable, with a look on his face that he hadn't thought the Slytherin Ice Prince was even capable of knowing. He had wondered about it, Hermione's mention of Dumbledore's words making his mind do double time as to whether the pureblood could be on their side or not.

It was hard to tell.

There were too many mixed signals.

* * *

><p>"…arry…Harry! Oh for Merlin's sake!" Someone exclaimed, exasperated.<p>

"I thought boys always paid attention to anything food-related."

"Probably every boy but Harry."

A hand on his elbow guided him forward and to a seat. Harry snapped back to the present to realize that he was sandwiched between Jennifer and Parvati who had now become rather good friends. They both pinned him with a rather deliberate stare that promised a serious conversation somewhere in the future. Harry smiled weakly as his stomach rumbled. He snuck a good whiff and felt his clenching insides relax ever so slightly. He'd avoid their serious conversation as long as he possibly could, but he would definitely take advantage of being smothered with the lovely scents wafting off of them as long as they were close.

Hermione didn't seem to care that he was whisked away by the two girls and the twins winked at him as the duo tugged him further down the table than his usual place. He saw Ginny scowling and sulking at having to sit next to her brother and his bushy-haired girlfriend. She had taken to grumbling about nearly everything lately and now, the youngest Weasley sulked through the entire morning meal with only the occasional glower in Harry's direction. It was a glower that froze in fright when Fred matched it with one of his own and George followed up. Ginny resumed sulking and switched her glowers to her breakfast plate.

"You alright, Harry?" Parvati eyed him critically.

"Sleep well? You look a little tired." Jennifer sank gracefully down onto the bench on his other side.

"Have you seen Madam Pomfrey?" The Indian girl began to fill her breakfast plate. "She might be able to help."

"Especially if you're not getting enough sleep." Jennifer nodded in agreement. "Eat up. You need some meat on those bones." She gave Harry's bony shoulder a light squeeze.

"Ohh, lucky Harry!" The twins chorused.

Fred and George seated themselves opposite the mismatched trio, with identical smirks on their faces.

"You aren't sneaking out-" Fred began.

"-to cause mischief without us, are you-" George picked up. "-because if you are, we-"

"-certainly have something-"

"-to say about it." George finished. He handed over a breakfast dish and nodded towards Harry's plate. "Trying to fatten him up too?" He shuddered. "I pity you, Harry."

"Indeed." Fred smirked. "Once girls start to mother you, it's bad."

"Oh shut up and stuff your own mouth." Jennifer shot back. "And give me that cinnamon roll."

"Your wish is my ultimate desire, dear lady." George winked. He handed over the sweet.

Jennifer snorted. "Dear lady, now, am I?" She shook her head and turned her attention to her plate. "Of course, only now he remembers."

Parvati shrugged lightly and began to eat, having contented herself with the small portions she'd added to Harry's plate. Her meaningful look said more than her mouth would have and Harry made himself sample each helping on his plate beneath their watchful gazes. He hadn't been as invisible as he'd thought after all.

"I'm fine." He spoke around a mouthful of cubed fruit. "Really." He shrank somewhat when Fred pinned him with a look, punctuated with an arched eyebrow. Harry snuck a look at George, only to find the matching redhead sporting the exact same expression. He gulped and focused on his plate instead. The twins getting serious was serious! Harry forced himself not to squirm under their sudden scrutiny.

Loud shouts from the Slytherin table, drew the attention of every student, ending with a red-faced Pansy Parkinson towering over a certain blond Ice Prince.

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><p><strong>AN:~*~*~*~VOTES ARE CLOSED!~*~*~*~ To anyone who missed my note in the last chapter, Votes are now _closed_. The verdict has already been decided. Thank you, to everyone, for your participation! (and there will be other things to vote for in the future, to keep an eye out if you missed voting this time around.) ^_^  
><strong>

**Thank you for the kind reviews/faves and alerts. I'm glad y'all are enjoying the story. Here's chapter 9, at last. ^_^ Harry and Megan find a way to spend more time together and we see glimpses of the other girls slipping in. The next chapters should be quite fun!**

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><p><strong><span>NOTE<span>:This fic is different from the typical result of this type of genre, in terms that I am making this fic as realistic as possible. Harry is not immediately tumbling into bed with a gaggle of girls and having his wicked way with them. -_-' While he does have leadership and Alpha tendencies, he is the SUB(submissive)/Bottom, in this fic and as such, there will be an 'Alpha female' character present for his mateship circle. Also, just because Harry is a sub, does not mean that he doesn't have a backbone. He will be independent and discover a sense of self. This fic will be focusing on Harry and the changes happening to _him_ and how he handles it. I like to torture my characters somewhat, because life is realistic that way, it's not all fluffy and perfect. There are quite a bit of adventures in Harry's future though, and many interesting subplots to come, so stick around for the ride if this is what you'd like to read. ^_^  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Random<strong> **Rant**: :( I'm sorry the angst isn't quite your thing, but thank you for reading and reviewing, just the same. It does pick up in tone a little bit, but part of the reason for this is Harry's attitude towards his inheritance, (a specific point in his character that I address in a future chapter). I hope that makes some sense. :) **  
><strong>

**Call0013 & lordamnesia:** Thank you both for reading and reviewing! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Wish I could rewrite faster. :) **  
><strong>

**Durzokylar:** No problem at all! It's because some of my readers were nice enough to ask for a "Straight" version, that I've actually started this fic. I understand that slash isn't everyone's thing and I'm glad that you're able to enjoy the story through this alternate plot. ^_^ **  
><strong>

**Penny is wise : **In the original version, I believe it took until chapter 13 for actual "action" in terms of the romance, however, since this is a rewrite to remove the slash aspect, there are different scenes added in, for instance, this would've been one chapter over there, but has become almost three, for this version of the fic.

**Alex The Goth: ***zippers lips* Not telling! :P That was the whole point of votes and all that. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm pretty sure I can weave them all in here in a way that y'all will enjoy. ^_^

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I appreciate it. If I missed your review, my apologies! FF has been eating my alerts and reviews, so blame it on them. :( **


	10. Pansy's Idiocy

**See chapter one for disclaimers/suggestions/warnings:**

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><p><strong>WARNING: There is mention of a possible Mxm side pairing due to Pansy's idiocy . It does NOT include Harry or any of his potential circle mates.<br>**

* * *

><p><em>PREVIOUSLY: <em>

_Harry's first day at Hogwarts has him hiding the fact that he does not have any magic. No one has noticed yet. As the weeks have gone by, Harry has managed to keep his little secret to himself and he's grown a little closer to some of his fellow classmates. During breakfast, some commotion at the Slytherin table draws the attention of everyone.  
><em>

* * *

><p>A sudden commotion from the Slythering table drew the attention of all eyes in the Great Hall.<p>

Pansy Parkinson was a bright red, her arms flailing about as she worked herself up into a fit. "You what?" She screeched. "How could you do this to me? We were supposed to be married!" She shrieked. "How dare you go and get yourself bonded without even-!"

Draco leaned away from her, and reached for his goblet of pumpkin juice as if her verbal temper tantrum wasn't really happening at all. He was calmly going about his usual breakfasting motions.

That only served to make the girl all the more furious. She grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him around to face her. "I've been brought up my whole life to do everything just perfect so I'd be a proper Malfoy bride and you went and got yourself-" she swallowed. "-Got yourself bonded and you can't even tell me who's the lucky bitch?"

A few gasps were heard.

"My private life and what I do with it, is absolutely none of your business, Parkinson." He said, coolly. "If you cannot control yourself then-"

"You disgusting, filthy, back-stabbing-!"

"Leave him alone!" Millicent shot to her feet, an uneasy glance flickering between her two housemates. The larger girl rarely spoke up and the very fact that she was speaking now drew attention from their own housemates. "Pansy, please, leave it be. You're making a scene."

"Shut up, Bulstrode!" The brunette glared at her. "You've lost it, haven't you, Draco? Just because your father's no longer head of the family, you're bent on dragging the Malfoy name through the dirt to suit your own nasty little-"

In a blur, Draco was on his feet and his face was inches away from the angry girl. "Take it back." His voice was quiet, calm and deadly. "That was uncalled for. Take it back, Parkinson!"

The use of her last name was not lost on her. Pansy sniffed, lifting her chin a few degrees higher. "Hit a nerve? I didn't realize you were so helpless with Mummy and Daddy out of the picture. I would think you'd want to honor your father's wishes for us to be married. I suppose with him gone now you feel that you can simply-"

Draco's hand flashed out and Blaise seemed to appear from nowhere as he stepped in and caught the pale wrist before said hand could connect with Pansy's face. The dark-haired boy shot a warning look to the furious blond and frowned at their housemate.

"Pansy, you're making a scene and-" Blaise began.

Pansy stared at him for a moment and then her own hand flashed out and slapped Draco across the cheek. "You've bonded with Blaise Zabini?" She nearly screamed as she wrenched Draco's wrist out of Blaise's hand and stared at the duo incredulously. "How dare you! How could you?"

Both boys stared at her in a mixture of confusion and befuddlement and then looked at each other and back at her. Blaise shifted slightly so he turned his back to a simmering Draco.

Pansy was huffing for breath her face seemingly unable to turn anything else but darker shades of red as her fiery temper continued to spew. "You insufferable git! You were leading me on this whole time! Did you think it was funny? Were you trying to humiliate me? What were you trying to prove? And w-with him?" She exclaimed, shoving Blaise away as he took another step towards her. A hand went to her mouth in horror. "This can't be happening. You can't do this! You bloody insufferable…!"

The rest of her sworn insult was ignored as Harry snuck a glance at the Head Table, unsurprised to see the teachers whispering disapprovingly amongst themselves along with an untwinkling Headmaster. His attention was caught by a certain glowering Severus Snape who threw his napkin in his plate as he rose silently from his chair. The look on his face was dark and decidedly murderous.

Harry shrank down a little further, grateful to be sandwiched by the two girls and near to the twins—two of the taller students at the Gryffindor table. He felt that he was more than lucky for once, not to be the unfortunate victim of Snape's volatile temper. The man could make you wish you were a single-cell organism with one single glare from those inky eyes. The very fierceness of his temper, the sheer intensity of it, would have you wishing he'd explode or at least react in a more visible way, rather than the consequent darkening of his visage and the icy tone of voice that spelled imminent doom. Yes, Harry was very glad he was nowhere near the dark descendent of the dungeons that now swept towards the table of his beloved Slytherins.

All uninvolved parties caught sight of their Head of House sweeping down towards them and almost instantly, the spaces beside the arguing students cleared out and all students were studiously engaged in their respective breakfasts when Severus Snape glided to a halt beside a still fuming Pansy Parksinson.

One long, thin, bony hand settled on her shoulder with a vise-grip. "Miss Parkinson," he ground out. "Cease embarrassing yourself and drawing attention to your situation with this childish display of immaturity." His voice was smooth as silk and twice as deadly with the promise it held. "We are Slytherins and we do not react with such…vulgar displays of displeasure, no matter the situation." His dark eyes swept over a near furious Blaise and a bright red handprint on the pale skin of Draco's face. He smiled, thinly. "I believe breakfast is over," His grip tightened and he turned her towards the doors, intent on marching her out of the Great Hall and into a more private setting.

A single glare at the rest of the Slytherin table had all the other students immediately shuffling their belongings together and preparing to leave for their first classes, breakfast now a forgotten thing. All heads were bowed as if the entire house was in disgrace for the actions of one, beneath the stern, impassive Head of House. Some of the older students snatched fruit and breakfast rolls, wrapping them in napkins for the younger students and quickly gathering up their things.

Harry blinked as Snape marched Parkinson out of the Great Hall. He could've sworn that he saw the dour man touch Draco's elbow on the way out.

Almost.

"Well, that was certainly-" Fred mused.

"-interesting. I wonder what-"

"-brought it about. Wouldn't have-"

"-thought Malfoy would-"

"-be the perfect morning-"

"-entertainment. How strange." George's gaze darted to Harry's mostly full plate. He sighed. "Har-ry."

Harry looked at him, expectant.

"At least eat the applesauce-" Fred sighed and bopped him gently on the head, before he snitched a tart from Jennifer's plate. She smacked his hand with the back of his fork, but let him have it anyway.

"-if you can't eat anything else." George finished. "You hardly eat enough as it is."

Harry scowled, but did go about shoveling spoonfuls of the bland applesauce into his mouth. He'd have to be more careful. He certainly couldn't eat as the others would, his stomach was still adjusting to the fact that he had food to eat and his Dragel side was constantly protesting as it went through its cycle of demanding meat and fruit in alternate days.

Harry mentally replayed the incident. Draco hadn't reacted at all—well, apart from the slap that he'd never landed, thanks to Blaise—though now that Harry thought of it, he considered it somewhat odd.

Blaise was never around Draco the way that Pansy was and yet he'd stood up between them. Though, now that he thought of it, Harry wondered what part of what she'd said had set the blond off. Certainly, he'd never pegged the boy as one to hit a girl, but then again, Lucius Malfoy had been a Death Eater.

_You shouldn't judge him by his parents_. The stray thought curled through his mind. Harry frowned. He looked down at his plate to see that more applesauce had been added. He scowled spectacularly, but neither twin would meet his eyes.

Harry unhappily shoveled another spoonful of applesauce in his mouth as he stared across the room at the red handprint still visible on Malfoy's face as the Slytherins silently filed out of the Great Hall.

* * *

><p>By the time they turned up for Transfigurations, Harry had grown tired of the chattering amongst the students in regards to Malfoy. He didn't care to really know why or what had happened, but the more he thought about it, the more it annoyed him. It wasn't anyone's business really, if Draco decided to bond to someone else other than Pansy—and if it was Blaise, well, the only thing Harry had to say to that, was that the Italian needed to quit flirting with him if he was serious about Draco.<p>

If he wasn't, well, Harry would deal with it when he came to that point. He didn't see anything wrong with the equation, though he did admit that it was the first time he'd ever seen or heard anything of the sort towards an all-male bonded pair in the wizarding world. He heard of such things, but didn't see much of it in real life. He'd yet to really see it anywhere.

Draco and Blaise had been a bit of a shock.

Harry resolved to ask the Italian at Potions before dinner. He wondered, faintly, what Snape would do.

Then he shuddered and broke into a trot to keep up with Hermione and Ron.

It suddenly felt as if all his luck had run out.

* * *

><p>Transfigurations was a nightmare.<p>

Harry knew it was all going downhill the moment McGonagall's sharp eyes zeroed in on him. Her scent dipped sharply in a way that heralded trouble. He'd managed to slip by her for so long and now it was as if she'd suddenly realized something. To his relief, she didn't call him out on it in class.

But as she'd done the first week, she came by to personally inspect his efforts or rather, his lack of visible progress. She'd turned away to scold Ron with face set in an expression of extreme disapproval as class continued on.

Harry had sat in his seat, feeling worse as the minutes ticked by.

The moment class was over, he was on his feet and ready to run.

He didn't get very far at all.

"Mr. Potter, a word?" McGonagall's voice cut through his temporary bubble of happiness.

Harry swallowed. This wouldn't go over well, he could practically feel it.

Ron shot him a sympathetic look as Hermione dragged him out the door to the next class.

He shuffled up to the desk and waited. She scribbled something on a piece of parchment and then peered up at him over her glasses. "Is something the matter?"

"No, Professor McGonagall." He answered, politely.

"I see." She eyed him meaningfully. "You've had this kind of a…reaction before." She sniffed. "In the first week, correct? I've been watching you and I've noticed your recent lack of progress in class. Have you come into any magical inheritance this year?"

Harry's jaw dropped. "Professor?" He managed.

She perked a brow at his reaction and made another scribble on the parchment. "I thought not."

"Professor?" He tried again, unable to help himself.

"Of course, you might not be aware of it, seeing as you were raised by muggles, but I would have thought Miss Granger might have mentioned it to you, then again, she may not have the same interest…" The witch's words trailed off for a moment as she was lost in thought and then gave a sharp shake of her head. "Most young witches and wizards find themselves with a magical inheritance on their sixteenth birthdays." She sighed. "Some do and some do not, but it depends on family bloodlines. Your mother received hers as a sudden, inherent ability to manipulate charms at will, I do believe she was not a pureblood, however, she did possess a significant amount of raw magic and that may have had something to do with it. Albus should have mentioned this."

She held up a hand. "Before you ask, I have no idea what your father's was, I do know that it did help to settle him down just a bit. He did have quite some trouble controlling his magic for a few weeks until it settled down. Whether you did inherit something or not, it is quite normal for your magic to rewrite itself on an auspicious birthday." She scribbled something else on the parchment. "As I don't believe you've ever had this sort of issue before, I would suggest visiting Madam Pomfrey. She can help, if there are any symptoms you have noticed or at least, you will have a proper excuse from classes if there is something wrong."

The stern professor handed it over. "I do not think I should have to impress upon you the seriousness of this matter." She peered at him over her glasses. "This is serious, Mr. Potter. Now, Poppy can also give a better explanation than I, as to why your magic may be…reacting, if that is the case. Run along now. This should excuse you from your next class."

So Harry left.

He made his way down to the next class and stuffed the note in his pocket. The last thing he wanted to do was go and see Madam Pomfrey. He'd managed to avoid her for three weeks after all. The matron was never quite happy to see him—probably because disaster usually followed shortly afterward—but as far as he knew, he was fine, well, except for the lack of magic part, but that wasn't really much of an issue—sort of. If Professor McGonagall had thought his inheritance to be an excuse for it, then he'd let her go right on believing that. He hadn't confirmed nor denied receiving an inheritance. There was no real need to correct her assumptions and it was her own fault for making them in the first place. She hadn't given him much of a chance to answer.

He wouldn't answer.

He didn't have to. It was no one's business but his own.

With that reasoning hammered out in his head, Harry trotted off to Charms class. His mind flickered back to his mother and he wondered what it must have been like for her. He'd heard once, that she was extremely gifted in Charms. It was one of the few treasured tidbits of knowledge he knew of her. It was news to him that her gift had come as a magical inheritance. He'd treasure that new tidbit and silently thanked McGonagall, even though she didn't know what it meant to him. He found himself wondering if the same would work for him—after all, a magical inheritance had to come from one's parents and if his mother had talent in charms, then perhaps he wasn't entirely screwed for the moment.

Maybe.

His magic was just as nonexistent in there as it had been everywhere else for the past nearly two months. He wondered if Professor McGonagall's mention of his magic redirecting itself had anything to do with it.

Perhaps he ought to see Madam Pomfrey after all.

_Perhaps._

His stomach twinged in unease and he shoved that thought away.

No, absolutely not.

He'd avoid it as long as he possibly could.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Blaise and Draco are NOT bonded. Pansy is just being her usual idiot self and jumping to conclusions that are not there. This is half the reason she is so outraged and Draco is so very insulted. Thanks for reading! I might get another chapter up tonight, depending. Thanks for reading! Comment, if you feel so inclined. ^_^  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Also, a little bit of promotion here for one of my reviewers, Kitsune Shifter, who has posted a challenge for an HP story using an interesting setting and harem plot. It is posted on their profile and also as a fic, with an opening prologue so you can get a feel for the story. If you're interested, do check it out and let me know if you take it on. ^_^<strong>

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><p><strong>Penny is wise : <strong>I'm glad you can enjoy this version then. ^_^ I'm trying to keep as many of the actual elements (the fight with Pansy, the mystery, adventure bits, etc) from the original in this one, so it might take a little more word wrangling, but hopefully you can stick around for the read. ^_^

**Maleivius: ** His breakdown is coming up in another chapter or so. Your guess is right on target. And I like the Weasley twins, so I've stuck them in there. ^_^ Thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I appreciate it. If I missed your review, my apologies! FF has been eating my alerts and reviews, so I haven't seen them. :( **


	11. Blaise, Millicent and Potions

**See chapter one for disclaimers/suggestions/warnings**

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><p><em>PREVIOUSLY: <em>

_Harry's first day at Hogwarts has him hiding the fact that he does not have any magic. No one has noticed yet. As the weeks have gone by, Harry has managed to keep his little secret to himself and he's grown a little closer to some of his fellow classmates. During breakfast, some commotion at the Slytherin table draws the attention of everyone, now, his professors have finally called him out on his lack of magic. Uh-oh.  
><em>

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><p>Charms class was just as awful as Transfiguration.<p>

It seemed that Professor Flitwick had also kept an eye on him and he made his move right before Harry could bolt for the next class.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry stifled a groan. He turned to see the short fellow waiting, expectantly. "Yes, Professor?"

Professor Flitwick beckoned to him as the rest of the class filed out. "If you are not feeling well to participate in class, please visit the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey will set you straight to rights. You wouldn't want to fall behind…" The sentence trailed off and then the little professor returned his attention to the stack of summer homework on his desk.

Harry nodded, quickly, nervously and backed out of the room. He knew a dismissal when he heard one and if the Professor hadn't ordered him to see Madam Pomfrey, then there was no reason he really had to.

* * *

><p>DADA class was strange.<p>

Professor Terius seemed to be in an exceptionally dark mood as he selected a passage in their textbook and had them take turns all around the class reading it out loud. He moodily interrupted to correct speech and grammar several times in short, sharp phrases, but didn't make a single comment beyond that.

He paced the length of the classroom and up and down the aisles a few times.

At one moment, he lingered in front of Draco's desk and his eyes bored into the empty seat where Pansy Parkinson would have sat. He then resumed his pacing and at the end of the passage, scowled magnificently.

"Any questions regarding today's readings will be answered during the next class period. Choose one question that puzzles you and address it an essay of fourteen inches, due immediately upon the next class period." He frowned. There was still roughly about twenty minutes left of class time. "Chose a question with merit and reread this passage thoroughly to find supporting statements for your argument. Dismissed."

A slightly stunned class began to pack up and move out. They weren't about to complain of getting out early—well, none besides Hermione, that is—and she had learned with time not to speak up out of turn in this particular class.

"Mr. Malfoy, a word?"

Harry was swept up with the crowd and out into the hallway. He turned back in time to see Draco turning his head to show off the bruise on the side of his face. He wondered why Draco hadn't visited the infirmary for bruise salve. But the blond approached the agitated professor and the door swung shut before Harry could see more. He found himself wondering what the professor's reaction was.

A new burst of energy sang through him at being let out early. Harry charged along with the usual flow of students, thinking general happy thoughts. He had an idea of what to write for the essay and he had a sudden craving for fruit again. Halfway towards the Great Hall, Harry stifled a groan as he began to feel an all-too-familiar tiredness creeping into his very bones. The burst of energy had only been temporary—a warning at best, if he chose to look at it that way. He was not looking forward to carrying around Pepper-up Potions and napping at every available moment.

This week was sure to be a pain in more ways than one. He hoped no one would notice—without the usual rush and bustle of the first school week—it would definitely be a little trickier.

Harry grumbled to himself as he moved along to the next class and ran smack into Megan Jones.

There was a muffled grunt and the dark-haired beauty caught him easily by the elbow and steadied him with a smile. "Morning, Harry." She greeted, warmly. "You're out early." Her honey-colored gaze flickered from the DADA classroom door and then to the flow of students streaming out.

"Morning, Meg." Harry returned, pleased to be able to use the girl's first name and in shortened form no less. "Teacher Terius let us out early. Can I borrow your-"

"Lucky you." Meg praised. "Hmm, I think for four chocolate frogs, you can have it tonight and return it tomorrow in Potions." One honey-gold eye winked. "Or four chocolate frogs whenever you get them and you can borrow it for the same amount of time. Anything longer than that and we might have to work out new arrangements, Mm?"

Harry blushed. "O-only four?"

"You'd give me more?" Meg's smile upped several watts. "My sweet tooth will be happily drill its own cavity. But really, Harry, _you're_ too sweet. Whenever you're offered a good deal, take it quietly and don't complain." She smirked. "They say it's that self-sacrificing habit you Gryffindors have that always cost you in the end." Her smile softened. "When you have the frogs, I'll have the book. Don't take too long, I haven't had a frog in…days."

"You really shouldn't eat so much of them, you know." Harry heard himself say. He was frantically trying to think of something else to keep the conversation going. The snatched moments they'd had to talk had never satisfied him at all. Not to mention that if the twins smelled delicious, then Megan was absolutely divine.

Meg chuckled and the sound sent happy shivers through Harry. "Worried for my sugar intake? Don't worry, I'm not going to suddenly become-"

"Shut up! It's not my fault if you turn into a hyperized pixie-"

"Harry?" Ron stood in the hallway, staring at him a mixture of confusion and uncertainty. He'd seen Harry pulling away from them recently and now, of all people, he was chatting comfortably with a tall, Hufflepuff girl. Ron frowned, eyes narrowing and he spoke quickly, snagging Hermione's arm as she sailed past him.

"Ron, what did you-" She stopped and stared at Harry and the Hufflepuff. Her brow immediately furrowed. "Since when is Harry friends with the Hufflepuffs?"

"Never mind since when." Ron growled out. "Harry, Oi!" He stood on tip-toe to see over the bustling students. "Who's that? That a new girlfriend?"

Harry's face flushed a bright, uncomfortable red.

Megan's golden eyes flickered to his face and her smile melted away to the faintest hint of disapproval. "I'll go." She said softly. "Harry." She gave a quick, jerky nod and was gone in the passing flow of students.

Harry stared after her, feeling the absence as a very obvious loss that made him want to run after the girl and do…_something, _he didn't know what.

"Harry?" Ron was beside him, closer this time. "Harry, mate, what's going on? Who was that? I thought the Hufflepuffs weren't talking to you since, you know, with Cedric and all that. Hey, Harry? Are you alright?"

Harry jerked around to glare at him. "Yes. I'm fine. I was fine." _Perfectly fine until you interrupted_. He thought, darkly.

"Hey!" Ron held up his hands. "You know, you've been acting really strange lately." His eyes were accusing. "You hardly ever hang out with Hermione and me now and now you're getting all cozied up with a new girlfr-"

Harry tuned him out. He had to. If he listened, he had a feeling he'd punch Ron in the face, just to hear the sound his fist would make when it collided with the redhead's nose. Or jaw. Or head. Either of them, he wasn't going to be picky.

* * *

><p>Potions was a curious affair.<p>

Pansy was present.

Draco was paired with Millicent instead of her. The bruise on his face had disappeared and he spoke in quiet, deliberate tones, avoiding her seemingly without effort. His fellow Slytherins immediately moved independently between them, keeping them apart without a word from their still glowering Head of House.

Harry shrank slightly into Blaise when the scowling professor prowled the classroom, inspecting the individual cauldrons. Millicent was with Malfoy and that left Blaise with him, as much as he'd become accustomed to the stocky girl and her easy-going chatter, once in a while, Blaise did join their group. He'd slowly grown a little more comfortable with that, but for the moment, he wasn't really sure.

The Italian had barely spoken so far and he looked curiously at Harry for a moment, before directing the ingredients to the other side of the table. "Check if they need to be diced or sliced." He instructed.

Harry eyed the pile of twisted roots rather warily and then cautiously bent his head over the book, skimming for the necessary information.

"Something the matter, Harry?" Blaise murmured when Harry bumped into him for the half-dozenth time as they stood beside each other.

"Potter." The green-eyed boy corrected automatically. "Why do you always use my name?"

"Pot-ter, then." Blaise purred.

Harry felt his face heat and knew he was turning several shades of red. He should've kept his mouth shut for that point. He'd been learning to do that with Millicent, it was probably the best strategy with Blaise as well. He looked away as Blaise chuckled softly beside him. It made his temper spark and flare just a little bit. He could almost feel sorry for the Slytherin Ice Prince, if Blaise was constantly flirting with everything that moved... "You shouldn't be flirting with me if you're with Draco." He snapped.

Blaise stiffened beside him. "Excuse me?" The warmth faded from his voice.

Harry swallowed. The sudden shift of tone and emotion was trademark for a Slytherin and he'd just crossed a line that perhaps, he shouldn't have. "If you're with Draco, you shouldn't be…" He studiously kept his hands and eyes on the ingredients and cutting board.

Blaise's hand clamped down on his shoulder and turned him around. Dark purple eyes zeroed in on shining emerald orbs. "Listen close and listen well, Potter." He whispered, darkly. "That is none of your business. Whether I am with Draco or anyone else, is nobody's business. For your information, I am not! I would advise you to keep your suspicions of my personal life to yourself."

Harry blinked. The Italian seemed to have done a complete personality change. He didn't like that. This side of Blaise wasn't very nice at all. He wondered, briefly, if the same would happen with Millicent. She was a Slytherin after all. _Think, Harry, quick_. He prompted himself. "I said _if_." He lifted his head a little higher. The height difference between them wasn't too noticeable, but he knew that Blaise stood tall on purpose to get his point across. He'd do the same. "If. I didn't say you were."

The hand on his shoulder squeezed painfully tight and then, Professor Snape cleared his throat from somewhere nearby and the offending hand gentled and fell back to Blaise's side.

Harry swallowed and edged away a few inches as he began the usual ingredient preparations. When he finished, he read out the instructions in a quiet monotone and let Blaise do the rest of the work.

An awkward silence settled over him as the time torturously ticked by.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear." Blaise said, quietly. They'd reached the halfway mark for the potion and he directed Harry to start reading the instructions once more. "Especially among Slytherins."

"Obviously I know that now." Harry shot back. He glared at the taller boy. He couldn't even pinpoint why he'd bothered to speak up in the first place.

Blaise offered a rueful smile, hands extended in the closest he'd offer of an apology. "Then perhaps I've-"

Harry snorted. "Save your breath."

The class ended without further interaction or question between them.

* * *

><p>"Time is up. Bottle and label your potions, leave them here on your way out." Professor Snape barked. He folded his arms into the sleeves of his robes and glowered at each student as they passed by his desk to do as he'd asked. "And Miss Parkinson and Mr. Malfoy, a word."<p>

The two Slytherins in question were the last two left in the room as Harry waited for Blaise to leave first and caught the tail end of the crowd.

"Something the matter, Harry?" Millicent fell into step beside him, a steady hand on his shoulder when Harry jerked around in surprise.

"Millie!" Harry found himself relaxing and stiffened almost at once. "No, I just…it's nothing."

"Nothing doesn't leave a frown like that on your face." The Slytherin girl's smile didn't quite touch her golden-hued eyes. "Did Blaise say something to you?"

Harry blinked. "No. Why?"

"Good." Millicent examined her non-existent fingernails. They were filed down to the nubs. "Did he do anything unwanted?"

"What? No!" Harry sputtered, the moment his mind caught up to the insinuation.

"Wonderful. So what did you say or do that leaves you like this?"

"I didn't do anything!" Harry snapped, defensively. "Just-" Millicent's hand lightly brushed against his and a warm tingle shot through him, temporarily fudging his bolt of anger. It was calming, soothing and rather confusing. "I—it's nothing." He swallowed and jerked his hand away.

"If he ever does, you need only tell me." Millicent murmured, her gold eyes fixed deliberately on her habitual potions partner. "A snake has a better chance of fighting another snake. Good evening, Harry." And she melted into the crowd, disappearing before Harry could puzzle through that parcel of information.

He was left subconsciously holding his hand and wondering what exactly had just happened there.

Harry shook his head and trotted towards the Gryffindor Tower. It was dinner time and then homework time and then bedtime. He yawned. He'd go with bedtime and leave everything else for later. It had been too strange a day and he didn't feel like sitting through the leftover drama that was sure to be inside the Great Hall.

Somehow, he didn't think his stomach would mind.

Another yawn came through and Harry didn't bother to hide it.

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><p><strong>AN: Whew. I wasn't happy with the changes in this chapter, so I held onto it to keep tweaking it for a bit and finally, here we go. I was originally going to cut the scene with Blaise, but I figured I'd swap in Millie at the end and it worked out much better that way, a tad short for a chapter, but it worked and I'm happy enough to post it. Thanks for waiting! ^_^ (and welcome to the new readers!)**

**NOTE: This chapter was edited as per suggestions from several wonderful reviewers. Thank you! 05-29-2012  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Penny is wise : <strong>Thanks for reading! Glad it was a good chapter.

**Durzokylar: **Sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. :)

**Mana Tatsumiya** : Thanks for voting! I've already closed the poll, but I hope you keep on reading. Megan is definitely going to be one of his mates.

**KineX**: Thanks for pointing that out. I did remember, but since this is AU (I'm very loosely following the faintest trail of canon, if at all!) and I wanted some pranking moments later on, I decided to keep the twins in there for now, especially since I don't plan for this to go through the entire Hogwarts Semester. ;)

**Amanda Mau:** Thanks for reading and commenting. At the moment, we have Harry and Megan as the first lovely couple, I haven't decided yet on who the second one will be, but it might be either Daph, Tonks or Millie, depending. It can go either way at the moment. ~_^

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I appreciate it. If I missed your review, my apologies! FF has been eating my alerts and reviews, so I haven't seen them. :( **


	12. Cries In The Corridor

**See chapter one for disclaimers/suggestions/warnings. Many happy returns if you have actually read that entire note! *happy dancin'!* :D  
><strong>

**NOTE: In the original fic, things picked up around chapter 13-14-ish, I'm slicing chapters in half and rewriting snippets. There's going to be scene jumping in future chapters, so watch for the page breaks! :)  
><strong>

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><p><em>PREVIOUSLY: <em>

_Harry's professors have warned him about his lack of magic and advised him to visit Madam Pomfrey. Not wanting to reveal his creature nature, Harry has been avoiding it for the past three days, while trying to figure out some of his other classmates.  
><em>

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><p>It was three days before a certain pair of professors caught on to the fact that he hadn't visited Madam Pomfrey.<p>

Professor McGonagall didn't quite scowl at him through the entire class, but he could feel her eyes following his every move.

Professor Flitwick responded in similar fashion and frowned pointedly as Harry scooted out of class before anything else could happen.

Professor Terius was back to his normal self, literally the day after the Pansy-Draco attempt, though he did shoot Harry a few annoyed looks every so often as if he were a particular wrinkle that he couldn't quite iron out. Terius had charged back into classes as usual the very next day afterward and since then, the class had begun to discuss one topic that had Hermione ranting and raving through every meal since—Blood Magic. Harry hadn't cared. It had sounded interesting and even though he'd listened to Hermione's complaints, he felt a strangely alluring call towards the sheer power that Blood Magic promised. It was personal, intimate and so beautifully dark.

He shouldn't like it—or so he felt the whispers in his ears—but oh, how he did love to think and dream of it.

He couldn't wait until they touched on the practical points. Terius had all but promised them that they would see actual Blood Magic in action and in a safe environment, courtesy of Headmaster Dumbledore. It was sure to be a very interesting lesson. Of course, that wasn't the only interesting thing he had to focus on. Harry had ordered a new box of chocolate frogs and eagerly awaited the chance to trade them for Meg's mysterious encyclopedia in Potions that very afternoon. He was itching to get his fingers on that book, sure that the creature encyclopedia would have something on Dragels after all of the books in the Hogwarts library seemed exempt from the very term—well, at least in terms of useful information. Nearly all of them had the same textbook definition as his Care of Magical Creatures textbook and they all had less than flattering things to say of the dearly departed creatures.

Nearly every other text he'd gotten his hands on, seemed to be written from the viewpoints of authors that wished they knew how the extinct race had lived, breathed and survived. There was nothing really useful or concrete between all the speculation scribbled there and Harry couldn't help feeling as if the Dragels had been some sort of very secret society, complete with special passwords and secret handshakes.

It was as if he didn't know the password and because of it, he wouldn't be able to learn the handshake.

It was certainly confusing.

Thankfully, none of his other professors seemed to really be worrying or paying attention to other things—such as his new lack of magic—but then again, he didn't necessarily need magic in Herbology and it wasn't like Professor Binns would care as he droned on about the Goblin wars. Harry was more than grateful for that. It allowed him some leeway and he didn't have to act as much as he did in other classes.

A long yawn sneaked out of his mouth and Harry sighed to himself. He hated feeling this way—so strung out and exhausted and out of sorts, he wanted the week to be over so he could sleep in for the weekend and fix it. For all the wonders that his Dragel inheritance was supposed to be, it was starting to become a little bit of a royal pain. With some effort, Harry pushed the depressing thoughts away and tried to focus on more enjoyable things.

Such as talking to Meg.

Borrowing books from Meg.

Possibly having a longer conversation with Meg.

Maybe doing something more than just talking with Meg—minus a certain redhead's interruption.

Harry sighed.

She was not his girlfriend, but he certainly wasn't about to object to the fact that he kind of wishes that she was. He did have a feeling if he ever did work up the nerve to direct their friendship in that direct, she'd be holding the reins. There was simply something about her that let him know she was in charge and it was best that way.

Harry was surprised to find that such a revelation didn't really bother him. Sometimes it was exhausting and tiring to have to make all sorts of little decisions on his own, especially when everyone else wanted a hand in running his life. There was a difference there though—some people were running it without his permission and in Meg's case, Harry readily admitted to himself that he'd give her the control, if she wanted it. Taking versus giving.

He sighed. He was definitely looking forward to spending the afternoon reading and he'd carefully stowed his stash of chocolate frogs in his bookbag, with a smile to Meg as they'd passed in the corridor to let his friend know that he'd gotten his hands on the necessary sweets.

Meg's soft smile in return left him blushing.

Harry ducked his head and skittered off to the next class.

If he had a silly grin on his face for the first period, no one commented on it.

They probably didn't even notice.

* * *

><p>It was in Potions that his luck first ran out.<p>

Harry didn't realize it until it was far too late.

Professor Snape didn't even glance at him as he placed the completed and labeled potion on the desk. "Potter, a word, if you would." He said, stiffly. He waited until the other students had placed their potions on the desk and then he began to gather them up, speaking in Harry's general direction as he did. "The Headmaster wishes to see you in his office directly. Go. Now!"

Harry did.

In the opposite direction.

He bolted from the dungeons and headed for Gryffindor Tower. He did not feel like talking to the overly cheerful wizard and he most certainly did not want to put himself in a position where he might give too much away. The last thing he wanted to share with anyone was the fact that he'd become a—well, an extinct creature—there was simply no good way to slip that into a conversation, anyhow. Harry shuddered. He had a feeling that talking or being in a room alone with said wizard would most certainly do that and he did not want to be blurting out things that were best kept under wraps. He was tired enough to know that he couldn't afford to take that risk—not now anyway.

Maybe if he had a little nap…

A wave of tiredness overtook him and Harry gritted his teeth. _Why now of all times?_ He forced himself to keep on walking, knowing that he'd probably end up sleeping through dinner as he'd done the first week of school, until he'd been able to sleep through the weekend.

He'd almost reached the safety of Gryffindor Tower when his breath sudden hitched in his throat.

Harry bit back the groan of disappointment. He knew that feeling—thanks to his lovely, wonderful, brand-spankin' new Dragel instincts. Something bad was going to happen.

It was going to happen right now.

"Mr. Potter." The Potion Master's silky, dark voice made him stiffen into a statue. "The Headmaster's office is in the other direction. I would hope that the potion fumes have not affected your usually muddled brain to the point that simple instructions are too difficult for your feeble mind to comprehend." The man stared down at him with a mixture of a glower and a scowl in place. "Your head of house has worried about you to the point of mentioning it to the headmaster. Of which, I was selected to personally escort you to his office, just in case you forgot the password or some other equally inane excuse."

Harry swallowed. He could feel his Dragel instincts beginning to act up and scream at him. He didn't like what they were screaming at him. They were warning him away from the older man and telling him that he was threading on thin ice.

"Shall we?" The taller man gestured with over-exaggerated politeness.

Harry held his head high as he turned on his heel and began to retrace his steps. He made sure to keep an even distance between them. If Snape noticed, he didn't let on.

* * *

><p>They neared the Headmaster's office with a high-pitched scream made Harry clutch at his ears and whimper.<p>

Snape's head snapped to the side to look at him and then the Potions Master went rigid for a split-second before he broke into a dead run, whatever color he possessed already leaving his abnormally pale face. His robes billowed impressively behind him as he literally flew through the corridors.

Harry grimaced and jogged after him once he discovered that the unearthly scream had only sounded once. That was good. He didn't know if he could handle hearing a second one. It was as if that scream had all but ripped every empathic feeling from his body and shoved it down his throat in a way to make him feel complete, utter despair. A strange hollow emptiness that reminded him almost of the Dementors. Only worse. Harry shoved the thought away as forcefully as he could. _How could something be worse than those wretched creatures of darkness?_

The scrap of black fabric flickered around the edge of the wall, ahead and Harry hurried after it. He flinched as a powerful ripple of magic surged outward from the corridor. He rounded the corner and gave a squeak of surprise when the haunting scream was repeated and simultaneously interrupted by something akin to a screech.

He didn't know what else to call it.

It was immediately followed by a ground-shaking roar that urged him to drop to the ground and make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

Harry didn't know who roared.

The sight before his eyes was something he wouldn't be able to forget any time soon.

Draco Malfoy lay on the ground, clutching his bloodied middle. The trim body was contorted in an awkward position with smears of blood decorating most of his visible figure. Beside him, in an equally mauled fashion, lay the Spanish DADA assistant, Calida, with blood-covered arms and a frozen look of terror on her face, eyes open. Professor Terius knelt between them both, minus his teaching robes which had been used to form a makeshift pillow to prop up Draco's blond head, with Calida resting on a hastily cast cushioning charm. His hands hovered about Calida's face, before he quickly brushed a hand over her eyelids, closing them respectfully. Draco coughed and choked, drawing the man's attention. Terius immediately turned to him and lifted up the slender body enough for Draco to turn his head to the side so the blood could trickle out.

At their approach, Terius jerked upright and his grey-blue eyes flashed with power and anger as Snape approached. His lips curled back and an audible snarl filled the corridor. Harry inwardly flinched. He'd never thought his DADA professor could make a sound like that.

Snape jerked around to look at Harry, his black eyes going impossibly darker and then he twisted back to look at Terius and Calida before he gave a low growl, his gaze now fixed on Draco's prone form and Calida's bloodied figure.

Harry stumbled backwards and fell when another powerful wave of magic snapped out, all but throwing him to the hard ground. He stared in fascination as Snape purposefully strode closer to the duo and easily shrugged out of his own robes with the intent of covering Draco's injured body, while shooing Terius towards Calida—or rather—trying to.

Terius growled at him again as he wrapped his arms protectively around Draco, his grey-blue eyes sparking with emotions that Harry couldn't even begin to understand.

Snape growled in reply and repeated the earlier motions.

Terius answered with a faint hiss that trailed off to be something like a whine, before he inclined his head to the side.

A low rumble sounded from the Potions Master.

Two answering whines of distress came from the Draco-Terius pair on the ground. Calida was silent.

Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn't dare breathe. The urge to fall to the ground hadn't really lessened, but seeing as he was already flat on the ground, Harry simply stayed where he was. He wished desperately he had his magic back. But the bizarre scene continued to play out in front of him. Harry couldn't tear his eyes away as Snape drew nearer to the duo and draped his precious teaching robes over Draco's form. Within seconds, his wand slid out into his hand and he began casting spells. In between of the hastily whispered words, the Potions Master hissed and growled at the younger professor. Terius bowed his head, leaning away from the angry sounds, but continuing to support and rub warmth into the pale pureblood. In what was merely a matter of minutes, but somehow seemed to be much longer, Snape rose in his usual dramatic way, cradling Draco in his arms as he scowled at the bloody floor.

Terius followed his gaze as he slowly rose, keeping a cautious eye on the older man. When Severus scowled at him, Terius waved his hand at the mess and it disappeared, before he bent and gently scooped up Calida in his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin, protectively.

A curt nod from the Potions Master was the only sign of approval.

Harry swallowed hard. There definitely had been no wand involved with that. The entire episode seemed rather surreal as if such a thing could never happen. But Harry found he still couldn't look away as he watched the drama play out between the four. A faint, stirring of hope sparked through him as his Dragel self identified with fellow creatures of its kind.

Terius cast the same cleaning charms on himself and waited while his clothes were cleaned of the blood. When he was finished, grey-blue eyes zeroed in on Harry's surprised form. "Mr. Potter." His voice was strained as if it took too much effort to speak in slow, measured tones. "Follow." The DADA professor turned and instead of hanging back, he started forward and squinted down the corridor. A quick glance around seemed to satisfy him and he motioned to Snape to move first.

Surprisingly, Snape did.

Terius fell into step, intent on keeping himself between Harry and the other two before he realized that Harry wasn't following. "Is there something wrong with your feet?" He snapped, turning with his precious armful, a look of pure annoyance on his face. "As you can see, my hands are full and as I have no intention of carrying you anywhere, I would suggest you walk now unless you would prefer to be, what do you call it here—ah—obliviated?"

That worked.

Harry was on his feet in seconds and glaring at the man he had almost come to respect. Almost. There would be no one carrying or obliviating him if he could help it—regardless of whether he had magic or not.

Terius merely gave a curt nod and turned around, breaking into an even trot to keep up with Snape's long strides, careful not to jostle Calida's unconscious form. They passed by Dumbledore's office, at which the Gargoyle leapt to the side and the aged wizard in question appeared at the bottom of the steps.

"Severus!" Dumbledore called out, cheerfully. "And Professor Terius! To what do I owe the—oh dear." The smile and twinkle faded at once as he caught sight of Severus' armful. "Poppy?" He suggested, switching instantly to a serious mode as he falling directly into step with a billow of bright blue and silver brocaded robes.

Snape walked right past him without a word or glance. Terius followed suit. Draco whimpered and curled further into the arms holding him.

Harry trailed along, finding himself walking directly beside the Headmaster. He gulped.

The Headmaster seemed not to notice.

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><p><strong>AN: And two chapters within the same day. ^_^ I'm at chapter 40 for the original fic and now that I've worked out a few points, I can give this version some attention, hence the quick update time. This is a turning point for Harry and the starting event that prompts him to get into action. I'm also at a wedding this weekend, so updates/review replies and whatnot will be rather random and erratic, as I have a speech to give and a few other things to sort. Oh joys. ^_^  
><strong>

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><p><strong>ungodlyone<strong>: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Since this is a rewrite of a slash-oriented fic, there's a lot of little subplots that would up and die if I completely rewrote the entire thing. I have started this alternate version as a favor to a rather dear reviewer of mine and only removed the very obvious slash moments. There's also a reason for Harry's submissiveness, but it's part of the larger plot and takes a while to come into play.

**Amanda Mau:** Thanks a bunch! ^_^

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I really do appreciate it. If I missed your review, my apologies! FF has been eating and alternately spitting out my alerts and reviews, so I haven't seen them yet. Sorry! **


	13. Tell Me Your Secrets

**See chapter one for disclaimers/summaries/warnings. Others will be added as I see fit.**

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><p><strong>This is a STORY, it is FICTION. Don't like it, stop reading it. I am not twisting your arm nor your eyes. For me, this is just some wordy fun in the midst of my crazy life.<br>**

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><p><em>PREVIOUSLY: <em>

_Harry's professors have warned him about his lack of magic and advised him to visit Madam Pomfrey. Not wanting to reveal his creature nature, Harry has been avoiding it for the past three days, while trying to figure out some of his other classmates. When Severus Snape orders him to visit the Headmaster, Harry decides to ignore that and runs, only to find himself trekking along with Professor Terius and Snape with an injured Draco and Calida to see Madam Pomfrey at the Headmaster's request.  
><em>

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><p>They found themselves in the infirmary in rather short order.<p>

Thankfully, it was empty of other occupants.

"Poppy!" Dumbledore called. The older wizard seemed the be one with the closest human sounding voice.

Snape immediately angled towards the closest empty bed, with a tense Terius trailing behind, cradling his own unconscious armful. The tall, dark figure attempted to gently ease Draco to the pristine white sheets. Almost at once, the blond became more vocal, with loud whimpers and whines, his eyes shut tight even as his body thrashed, protesting.

"Hold her down!" Terius rasped, glowering at the black-haired man. His voice held more of a hiss and less of a human touch to it. "She'll tear open what little work I've been able to cast and-" he turned and deposited his armful on a nearby bed and immediately cast a finite to end the glamour. The still and silent Calida flickered and faded to reveal and still, silent and visibly uninjured Draco.

Snape's scowl darkened even more as he cast the same finite and the spell rebounded, the bloodied Draco remaining, even as a more feminine voice began to cry and chatter in a constant stream of fluent Spanish, interspersed with harsh clicks and whistles. "Shh." He tried to soothe, even as the very offer of comfort seemed uncomfortable to him. "Poppy!"

"Albus? I know you said you were coming down, but I was hoping for more than a few minutes, these sorts of things take time and-" Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office, wiping her hands on the front of her orderly apron. She looked exhausted, with shadows beneath her eyes and more wrinkles in her face than previously known. "Severus." She frowned. "Now, what's wrong?" Her flickering gaze took in the new occupants of the room and settled on Harry's half-hiding figure. "Mr. Potter? Already?" She sighed, with her hands on her plump waist. "It's barely been a month, though I suppose it was too good to ask for that much-"

"Not Potter, you daft woman!" Snape practically snarled as he jerked around to face her, having failed in detangling himself from Calida's grasping hands. "Here! Help her now!"

"Severus Snape, don't you dare take that tone with me-" The medi-witch began, her words trailed off and the matron gasped as her mind caught up to the sight before her. She swallowed hard. "Is that Malfoy?" There was horror in her voice as she bustled forward.

"My assistant, Calida." Terius spoke, his voice rough and hard. "She's wearing a glamour." He scowled. "Take it off, Severus." He ignored the dark look the black-eyed man threw in his direction.

"Set him—her—down." Poppy ordered at once. She drew her wand from the smock-front pocket and began to wave it in the usual movements for her diagnosis. "I can't tell you what's really wrong or help unless you set her down." She threw an annoyed look to the Potions Master. "Your magical signature always interferes whenever you're within the slightest-" She reached for the Draco-glamoured-Calida only to hear two simultaneous hisses and the audible click of Calida's teeth before Snape stumbled backwards, aided by a timely tug from a glowering Terius.

The two men glared at each other for a moment. Then Terius released the arm after a pointed look from the man it belonged to.

Poppy stood a few scant feet away, a rather worrisome feeling beginning to make itself known. She'd just escaped certain death, or so it felt. There was definitely something off here, though having the Headmaster show up with such an unlikely bunch of company was certain to be the cause of any unusualness. He'd warned her that Mr. Potter would be arriving, with request for a full checkup on behalf of his professors, who were concerned about the young man's magical levels. Considering the recent boon of creature inheritances and magical majorities in the past few weeks, Poppy was quite near exhausted. She could only hope that poor Harry himself, had no further headaches to add to his already complicated life.

The lad was always tangled up in too much to begin with and she didn't recall either of his parents ever having any sort of creature inheritance, though Lily Evans had come into something of a magical majority, drastically improving her charmswork and some of her other spellwork. She sighed. Evans. Potters and Snapes, the dour man had always been somewhat of an enigma on his own and she could count on one hand the number of times the man had even set foot in the infirmary.

She shook her head, wearily. At the end of the day, it all amounted to yet another headache she had to look forward to.

"Ah, Poppy." Dumbledore started forward, his customary smile in place. "This is not quite what I had in mind when I called you a moment ago. But it seems that young Mr. Malfoy and Miss…Calida, have run into a bit of trouble."

"A bit of trouble?" Snape bit the words off one at a time in his usual fashion. "A bit, Albus? This was no accident!" He nearly trembled with rage. As it was, the angry energy surrounding him all but permeated the air. A few things rattled in the background. The tingle of light magic seemed to tinge a few shades dark.

It was almost stifling.

The glamour on Calida finally wore off. It was a rather sickening sight. The bloodied Draco image had almost been easier to bear and the scent of blood hung thickly in the air, even as she whined and whimpered, tears streaming down her pretty face.

Poppy looked as if she wanted to speak, but Harry hoped she wouldn't. He didn't think it was safe for anyone to speak right now—not with the darkened scowl on the Potion Master's face and the equally shadowed look on the DADA Professor.

Instinctively, Harry found himself slipping behind the Headmaster, just in case. He should've just run when he had the chance. He should have. But he'd feel the connection between them. Even if his senses screamed danger at him for being so close to Snape, even if it meant nothing to anyone else in the hospital wing, he'd craved that feeling for however brief it had been. His Dragel self rejoiced in finding its fellow kind and urged him to continue to bask in their presence, at least until they told him otherwise. He wasn't about to complain when it made him feel so good.

The tiredness eased enough for him to recognize the faintest threads of warmth. They cared—even if they didn't know it themselves—he could tell that much and he was so tired of being alone and overlooked. No matter what he did, his life was a torrid, tangled mess and it would always stay that way. The chance to enjoy even a few stolen moments of hope was too great a temptation.

Harry was rudely jerked from his musings as a new flurry of snarls, growls and hisses came from the odd quartet of Snape, Calida, Terius and Malfoy. His Dragel instinctively shrank back within him. Outwardly, he fought to remain at least as physically unaffected as possible—it'd be a dead giveaway now if he dared to let anything slip.

At least, he knew the reasons why his reactions simmered so close to the surface. It didn't take a book to explain it. At least one or both of the professors were dominant to him in some way or another. He was unclaimed. Though they seemed to have formed their own circle, there was no guarantee that they'd leave him be. That alone, naturally made him wish to be anywhere near them in their present state.

It didn't feel safe at all.

He really should have run.

"Fine!" Snape finally ground out. His voice was still angry and hard as he shifted the armful as gently as he could and lowered Calida to the bed amidst the girl's weak protests and heart-wrenching cries of distress.

The cries, Harry soon found were muffled. He didn't like it. While his instincts had told him to run from either professor, the rest of him was coaxed back with the thoughts that he couldn't leave Calida on her own.

_Calida_.

Harry blinked. He'd never really even spent time with the girl, but now there was something coaxing him to stay and urging him to seek a possible friendship. When had that happened?

He snuck an upwards glance at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore winked and twinkled down at him before he glided forward and gave a slight wave of his hand. The familiar tingle of magic that passed through him let him know that the elderly wizard had cast some privacy and muffling charms.

_About time_. Harry thought, annoyed. He inched forward, still careful to keep a respectful distance between himself, Snape and Terius. He felt the faintest of tugs towards Calida again and he nibbled his lower lip as he watched the protesting girl and Madam Pomfrey's frantic attentions. The dear lady was trying, but true to her word, it seemed as if all her magic went haywire the moment it was even remotely directed towards Snape, who had yet to move from the young woman's bedside.

A flicker of movement caught his eye and Harry turned to stare at Terius in puzzlement. The younger professor had taken a stance slightly behind Snape and he hovered near the still and silent Draco, just apart from the rest of them, but close enough to be near. At this moment, the man literally quivered as if he were about to lose control of something very soon in the near future.

Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing tall and at attention.

Terius' sea-blue-grey eyes glittered before the round orbs morphed into something decidedly more reptilian.

_Dragel!_

Harry's new senses screamed at him.

But he could only stare as the DADA professor clenched hands that morphed into claws, so tightly that he drew blood. The dark rivulets streamed down and dribbled on his trousers as his shoulders twitched.

Suddenly, Harry knew what was coming next. He backed away, feeling the suppressed aura fanning out through the infirmary. Professor Terius was far more powerful than he'd ever let on. The sheer flicker of that much raw magic literally screamed at him.

That was definitely a Dragel. He didn't need any more confirmation. In fact, he'd be happy if the confirmation went away. Harry scooted back the first few inches he'd taken forward. The fact that he was considering the Headmaster as a potential shield was lost to him. He was only aware of the powerful and upset Dragel just within his line of sight.

As if sensing the severity of the situation, Dumbledore shifted back as well. He nearly stumbled over Harry, but managed to keep his balance with his twinkling gaze flickering over Harry as if trying to read something that wasn't there.

Harry studiously avoided his gaze as the sound of tearing fabric and a feral roar literally shook the room. The wards trembled and Harry suppressed a shiver. He knew in his very fibers that a cry like that promised pain—death, certainly—pain, at the very least.

And he knew, this time, who had roared. It was Terius. The other time had to have been Snape. This roar was different. It made his heart ache with the sheer knowledge of the pain shared within in.

Ripping fabric and a satisfied groan captured his attention once more.

Harry stared.

_Wings_.

A pair of large, grey, red-scaled wings arching out from his back and curved upwards as Terius moved forward to the smaller figure on the hospital bed. The leathery texture was smooth and scaled in the way that belied the actual use and familiarity of the appendages. They fluttered, stirring a powerful, magically charged wind. The sheer volume of energy seemed to crackle and snap around him and Harry was surprised to see Snape back down.

The Potions Master took one look at the furious, transformed man and grabbed Poppy's elbow, dragging her away from the bed and towards Dumbledore and Harry, before he inched towards the bed holding Draco's still form. He touched the blond's elbow and felt a soothing stream of magic into it. The body's contorted figure, relaxed, before the unfolding drama demanded Snape's attention.

Calida keened pitifully, her twitching, bleeding body trying vainly to convey her displeasure and panic at the apparent abandonment. Her cries were muffled and then immediately silenced when Terius reached her and those strong, broad wings curved around the bed, hiding all from sight in a winged cocoon. Tense silence filled the room for several, long minutes.

Snape shifted restlessly, his dark-eyed gaze flickering from Draco, to Terius and then to the others. Madam Pomfrey alternated between wringing her hands and glowering at the Headmaster and the elderly wizard in question drew out a handful of lemon drops from the sleeves of his voluminous robes and offered one to Harry.

Emerald eyes stared at him incredulously.

Dumbledore smiled, sadly. "I do not mean to make light of it, Harry, my boy." He sighed. "But it would be extremely unwise to interfere at this time. We must let them do what they will." The words seemed meant more for Severus however, and the surly man merely gave a grunt in response, his dark eyes fixed on the winged cocoon that he could not yet approach and then on the pale face of Draco.

The silence continued to hang thickly between them all. There was nothing else to be done.

Another wave of magic pulsed outward from the bed and there was the sound of a muffled curse as Terius' wings shifted and moved, before they shrank down and melted away into his figure. The claws and face scales began to disappear as the professor scowled at the girl on the bed. He cuffed him lightly on the head with one hand. "Language, Calida. That was uncalled for." He scolded, but there was no real emotion behind the word. The sea-grey eyes had yet to show any trace of feeling as they roamed over the now calm body.

Calida sat up with a wince and rubbed her head. Her clothes hung off from her lithe form in shredded, bloody rags, but the skin beneath was smooth, unblemished and just the right shade of tan. A glimpse of black fabric highlighted a wrapped chest, but the view as immediately hid by a well-angled wing from Terius. Calida didn't look at all as if she'd been attacked—well, except for the detail of the bloody, shredded clothes. "It was my favorite shirt!" She pouted at the DADA professor. "My favorite! Mum gave it to me. I don't have another one like that and it's not like I asked for them to attack me and-"

Snape growled and shot forward. He couldn't help himself anymore and was at Calida's side in an instant and almost at once, Calida reacted—but not in the way anyone else would have predicted.

Her brown eyes grew wide and she scuttled to the opposite side of the bed, reaching backwards, blindly with one hand to grab hold of Terius, who was in the middle of charming her clothes to repair themselves.

Wandlessly, Harry noted. He wondered what exactly had the girl so terrified, when there was a sputtering cough and gasp from the bed holding Draco.

"Dray!" Calida began to fight and squirm at Terius' restraining hands until Snape sidestepped to scoop up the blond and dump him in the same bed beside her. She immediately clung to him, crying loudly and switching from English to Spanish in a heartbeat. The blond, though pale, held onto her tightly, whispering soothing phrases in her ears, also in the same accented language.

"Draco." The Potion's master's cold, clipped voice sliced through the private moment.

"S-severus." Draco licked his lips, nervously, his pale face turning several more shades of white as he shrank back on the bed, clutching Calida tighter. "I-it was an accident, I swear. I would never have left her alone. It's not her fault. Neither of us saw it coming and-" Draco gulped.

Harry wondered what had happened to have Draco so terrified of his Godfather and what exactly said Godfather was going to do to his Godson and the DADA professor's assistant, as it seemed that the dark glower on Snape's face spelled certain doom for the young couple.

"Do. Not. Lie. To me!" Severus hissed. His hands had wrapped around the bed rails on the sides of the hospital bed and now they creaked dangerously as the unnatural grip threatened to wrench them from where they'd been bolted. "I warned you both to never walk those halls alone, especially now that she is-!"

Draco squeaked and turned away from the angry Potions Master to literally leap into the arms of a resigned Terius, with Calida still half-wrapped around him. She clung to both male figures, her energy waning in the wake of the recent healing. The younger professor merely sighed and tucked the blond head in the crook of his neck, beneath his chin, before shifting to wrap an arm and a wing around Calida as well. Terius hummed softly for a moment, the sound sending a pleasing vibration through the entire room.

Two answering purrs came from the blond and brunette as the tense figures seemed to melt into the arms cradling them together.

After a long moment, Terius gave a faint nod to a furious Snape who seemed to be struggling to keep his temper in check. A battle, thankfully, that the Potions Master seemed to be winning. Sort of. The glaring match resumed for a moment, but Terius merely waited for a moment, and then tipped his head to the side. Snape didn't need any further invitation. He was soon hugging all three of them and breathing deeply into Draco's blond hair, before doing the same to Calida. His shoulders gave the occasional twitch as if his own pair of wings would have liked to make an appearance.

Harry hoped they didn't. Seeing Terius' own had been enough. He had a feeling Snape's would be downright terrifying.

The two older men held a wordless conversation over the younger one's heads and Snape broke eye contact first, with a deep frown of concern marring his unique features as he looked from the perfectly defenseless Draco and Calida to the headmaster and company. He stepped in front of Terius as they turned to face the other occupants of the room. Terius rolled his eyes as his wings burst out from his shoulders once more, fluttering forward to shield Calida and Draco from view. He didn't seem to care that he'd shredded his own robes that he'd just meticulously repaired. The protective stance was clear and from the slightly bored look on his face, no one dared say anything about it. His protection included Snape as well.

"Albus." Severus began, tiredly. "As you can see, I have safely escorted Mr. Potter to your immediate presence. If you would, I take my leave. Terius?"

There was an answering grunt. The grey and red wings fluttered, gently, but the two young ones remained hidden from view.

Harry blinked. _They were just going to leave? Just like that? And, and-!_ He opened his mouth and then shut it when twin glares came in his direction. Coming from Snape, it was bad enough, but the new layer of steel and ice he'd seen in Terius' eyes made Snape's black-eyed glare all that worse.

Harry was sure he'd somehow missed something. He'd been there the entire time, but something significant had happened and somehow, he'd missed it.

The men shifted, but the Headmaster wasn't even looking at them, instead, his twinkling blue eyes were fixed on a certain, messy-haired Gryffindor. "Ah, Harry. Lemon drop?" He offered, again.

Harry blinked. That was not what he expected. He heard Snape snort in the background and a low growl that probably had come from Terius. The DADA professor was quite vocal in his growls. A pink blush dusted across his cheeks as his thoughts somehow diverted to a completely unwanted train of thought. Harry gulped and hurriedly summoned up his Gryffindor courage. "No thank you, sir." He said, politely. "Professor Snape said you wanted to see me?" He asked, politely. There didn't seem to be a safe way out of this prickly situation.

"Actually, Harry, I wanted to ask you to visit Poppy for a check-up. Minerva and Filus tell me that your magic has been acting up in the classroom lately and we can't be having you with-"

Madam Pomfrey was finally released from Snape's silencing spell and binding spell with a flick of Dumbledore's wand as the Headmaster continued his conversation. She glared at them both. "What, exactly, was that for, Severus!" She demanded. "I wouldn't have done a thing to her! I'll have you know that-"

A muffled sound from Terius' corner had her stopping in midsentence. She frowned at him, the memory of Calida's fangs snapping too close to her hand resurfacing. Now that she considered it, the girl had never come up for her mandatory health exam and neither had the DADA professor. "I mean you no harm." She said, deliberately and slowly. She was not used to dealing with this kind of volatile situation. Most confrontations were over quickly and easily enough. This was starting to wear on her nerves and the very volume of magical energy in the room was beginning to give her an early headache. At least, the girl looked as if she'd been healed, by whatever strange method had been used, if that was the case, then she'd just see to Mr. Malfoy and send them on their way. She really didn't need to be caught up in another one of the Headmaster's schemes.

The DADA Professor merely glared at her, tightening his grip on the now sleeping armful of Draco Malfoy.

The medi-witch nibbled on her lower lip for a moment and then sighed. "Which one of you do I need to ask to see to Mr. Malfoy?"

Terius gave an audible growl this time, his teeth bared in her direction, pointed fangs showing.

She retreated by a few steps and then turned to the Potions Master who seemed to be relaxing and somewhat amused. "That would be me, Poppy." He said, stiffly. "And I think that Draco is fine for now."

"Fine?" She perked a brow. "You walk in here with two blood-covered students, Severus! You place them in one bed apiece do a bit of screeching, pick them up and suddenly, everything is fine?"

"It is a private matter and will be handled." The dark figure retorted, not particularly inclined to debate the finer points of certain situations. He was beginning to feel slightly annoyed, wondering why he'd detoured to the infirmary in the first place. Potter. Right. Of course. He scowled, perfectly in character.

"Handled?" Poppy repeated.

He didn't answer, but he gave the faintest tilt of his head towards a certain elderly wizard still in the nearby vicinity.

"Albus?" She rounded on the unsuspecting Headmaster with a huff. "I won't have my hospital wing turned into a-" She swallowed. It seemed the rest of the Dragel drama was catching up to her. "What was that? What just happened?"

"Now, now, Poppy." The Headmaster twinkled at her, cheerfully. "I did warn you at the start of the school year that there might be a few surprises."

"You didn't tell me Severus Snape would be one of those surprises!" She snapped, hands on her hips. "And this young man!" She gave a jerk of her head towards Terius. "Absolutely no manners! Of all the nerve, Albus! Of all the nerve!" She spluttered for a few minutes. "I don't even want to know what he is!" She then frowned as her attention flickered to the rumpled hospital beds and she began to cast the necessary charms and spells to set them right out of pure habit. It seemed as if no one would be offering to answer her questions any time soon, so she continued about her usual things. She stiffened a moment later when her wand spat out a result she hadn't been prepared for. "Albus." Her voice was dangerous.

"It is quite all right, Poppy." He said, genially.

She stared at him, tempted to ask if he was barking mad. The temptation was nearly impossible to resist. She managed—barely. "Traces of Blood Magic is not quite all-"

Dumbledore's smile didn't waver as he moved forward to inspect the bed and gave a half-hearted flick of his wand. "Ah, what traces?"

The matron stared at him. The reading from her wand changed. Her mouth opened and closed, and then she turned away with an indignant squeak.

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><p>Harry inched towards the doors. He was close. So close! <em>No one would notice if I slipped out now… <em>

His back rested against the heavy doors and he fumbled, quickly, behind him for the door knobs. All he needed to was to grab one of the-!

And of course, classically, his luck ran out.

Almost as if they were one, all eyes in the room turned to look at him, from professor to medi-witch and Headmaster. Every stern gaze all but physically pinned him to the door.

Harry gulped. He really should have run from the moment he'd heard the first scream.

_Why did his luck have to end now?_

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><p>Harry found himself sitting on the newly made bed, with his hands tucked under his thighs as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand up and down him, with pursed lips. She looked even more displeased than usual as she tended to him. He'd managed to gather a small collection of scrapes and bruises from where the first backlash of Snape's angry energy had thrown him to the dungeon floors.<p>

Harry was trying his best not to squirm under the twin glares of the two professors who had yet to leave the infirmary. Terius holding Draco and Severus now cradling a resting Calida. Why they were still there, Harry didn't care. He was just glad they were. He wanted to ask them some questions—and he wouldn't be taking no for an answer!

"A Dragel inheritance." Dumbledore said, at last. He stood off to the side, careful not to interfere with a bustling Poppy, who briskly murmured healing spells and rubbed a few daubs of bruise salve into the injured areas. "I had hoped you would be comfortable to speak to me about everything, Harry. Do you understand what has happened?"

Harry looked down the wand being waved in front of his legs, from the tip of his shoes to the tops of his knees. He hoped Poppy was about done. She'd just spilled his secret to the Headmaster and he was finding himself becoming rather annoyed with her. He shrugged in answer to the question. There wasn't anything he wanted to say to that. In fact, if it were up to him, he would have rather left the Headmaster in the dark.

"This is quite serious." The white-haired wizard commented, when Harry offered no input. "This should not have turned out this way." The twinkling blue eyes shifted to the odd quartet, still standing a respectable distance away, but seemingly lost in their own little world.

Harry frowned. One piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Convenience. It couldn't be coincidence. "Is that why you hired Professor Terius?" He studiously avoided the gaze of said professor as he dared to ask the question. The man had looked up at the mention of his name.

Dumbledore smiled in that usual infuriating way of his. "Well, both Professor Snape and Mr. Malfoy made it quite clear that their presence in Hogwarts this year would only be happening if Mr. Terius joined us as well. He has handled the DADA position quite well." He frowned. "Though it would seem as if you two are not quite…getting along."

If Terius heard, there was no reaction.

Harry snorted. As nice as the DADA classes were and as interesting as each lesson was, there remained a deliberate barrier between him and the professor—one that was not helped in the least by this most recent development. Of course, now that he could see that they shared a rather obvious thing in common, Harry could feel his Dragel self pushing him to be polite, respectful and to do whatever he could to get and stay in the good graces of the small circle in front of him. His Dragel wanted, craved—no, needed—acceptance! Harry struggled inwardly with it, forcing the voices to quiet down and working his best to keep the natural instincts at bay.

"Mr. Potter, do you mind?" Madam Pomfrey looked at him in exasperation. "Kindly stop trying to block me! I cannot perform the slightest scan if you do not allow me to read your magical-"

"I'm not doing anything." Harry stared at her in confusion. He couldn't. He didn't have any magic. Not a single scrap!

"He doesn't know he's doing it." Terius interrupted. He still scowled and now said scowl seemed as if it were permanently etched in his features. He was rocking side to side, ever so slightly with a sleepy Draco in his arms, the grey and red wings having folded away once more. Soft, contented noises occasionally came from the resting blond. Sounds that were answered with quiet clicks from Calida's draped form in Severus' arms.

The sight might have been amusing if Harry hadn't seen the bloodied bodies just moments before. If he hadn't realized that said blond and brunette was part of a mated Dragel circle—he might have laughed his head off and gotten rid of a bit of tension in the air and in himself. As it was, instead, he could literally feel his own soul crying out for the same tenderness that was obviously displayed in the way that Terius and Snape hovered over their younger mates. They cared about the pureblooded brat and Spanish beauty in a way that defied all logic that Harry could piece together. They were even at each other's throats for them. Even now, Snape still kept a hand on Draco's shoulder, uncaring that he was partially wrapped around the younger professor to do so, while Terius leaned forward to rest his head on Severus' shoulder where Calida's own head was pillowed.

Harry found himself wondering which was which in their mated hierarchy. He wasn't sure yet. It seemed as if the answer should be painfully obvious, but he was distracted by Poppy poking him with something in the side. An undignified yelp came out in response.

Two answering hisses made him relax and then tense when he realized the effect said reassurances had on him. Both Professors looked somewhat miffed. Harry gulped. "I'm not doing anything." He said, at last. The Headmaster was giving him a disappointed look and while it didn't have the same effect as one of Snape's Death Glares, it did make him squirm nonetheless. "I can't. I don't have any…magic."

Silence reigned for a long moment.

"No magic?" Dumbledore repeated, incredulously. "How is that even—Harry, that can't be true. Dragels are extremely powerful and your inheritance should have magnified your natural abilities to-"

"I haven't had any magic since my birthday. I didn't try much magic until I came here." Harry found himself shrinking away under the calculating gazes. "It's just—it's not there."

Poppy's frown grew worried. "I don't like that." She said, at last. "Harry, your magic can't be completely gone, but I can't tell what's wrong with you because I cannot get an accurate reading on your-"

"Must you do everything with magic, woman?" Snape glared at her. "He is fine! He walks and talks and is just as insufferable as he's always been. There is nothing wrong with him."

"Now, Severus. There is no need for that." The Headmaster admonished. "This is a disconcerting thing, to be sure, but, Harry, I'm sure we can think of something."

"There's nothing to think about." Terius interrupted. "Just leave him be."

"I cannot, in good conscience do that, professor." The Headmaster said, calmly.

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><p>The conversations all tangled up from there.<p>

Harry was asked to prove that he didn't have any magic, something that wasn't very difficult at all. Poppy tried several things before finally throwing her hands up in despair. She even tried muggle means, via stethoscope and a few other items, before declaring that she'd done all that she could.

Snape's snarkiness went down by several notches with each increasingly disappointing result. He seemed almost frustrated that there wasn't some sort of instantaneous fix for Harry's current dilemma. Though of course, it could have something to do with the headmaster's insistence that there had to be a cure, particularly when the Potions Master was ordered to help in any way that he could.

It had ended with another one of Terius' pointed remarks to which Snape had glared reprovingly at the younger-looking Professor again.

"W-what do you mean?" Harry heard himself say. This entire episode had worn on him. He didn't know how much more he could take and his body was already running through the last bit of adrenaline and returning itself to its previous state of exhaustion. He wouldn't be able to stay awake much longer unless he—a yawn escaped. "I haven't done anything to-"

Terius paused for a fraction of a section and the sea-blue-grey eyes hardened. "Precisely. You have not done a single thing." He said, coldly. "I do not acknowledge you, because you do not acknowledge yourself."

That was the last one.

A sharp pain stabbed through him.

One that he'd felt a few times already.

Harry felt the last vestiges of energy well up inside of him and he didn't really want to, but he ran. He slid off the bed and bolted before anyone could react.

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><p>He ran.<p>

Harry didn't know where or how long. He just ran as he felt his emotions simmering and threatening to burst out of him. This was how it always turned out. It didn't matter what he did, even if he 'did' nothing, his freakishness would always find a way to turn any potentially good thing into another horrible mess.

The sharp pains coursing through him had lessened the farther he'd run and now, it was just a dull ache.

A throbbing, dull ache.

Harry rounded the corner and smacked full-on into a soft, warm body.

He gave a grunt and a squeak as the momentum toppled him backwards and the figure came crashing down on top of him with an exclamation of their own.

"Whoa! Ow. Harry?"

The distraught boy raised his eyes to find, warm, grey eyes fixed on his face, a pale brow creased in worry.

"Harry, are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost or a—Harry?" Megan stared down at the suddenly shaking figure beneath her. Her features shifted and rearranged to show her own confusion and worry. Harry stared up at her with the most pleading expression as if mere words couldn't begin to express what he wanted to say. "Harry?" Megan tried again. "Harry!" This time, more insistently when he still didn't respond, but merely kept staring at her, unseeing. "I didn't see you there. Didn't mean to run right into you. Are you alright? Are you hurt? Is something the-"

Quivering, pale pink lips parted in answer. The sound that came out was the softest, quietest, heart-wrenching cry that the Hufflepuff had ever heard. The warm grey eyes darkened by several shades and a look of complete horror registered on Megan's face. She half-jerked upright and immediately clapped a hand over Harry's mouth. "Harry, no!" She swallowed, rapidly. "Don't. You don't know what you're doing. Don't!" There was the faintest tremor in her voice.

Brilliant emerald eyes clouded and then faded with light, almost lifeless as shiny tears welled up within them.

Megan hissed, uttering a stream of words in a language Harry had never heard. "No, Harry. That's not what I meant, I mean that now's really not the time for this sort of-!" Her hands shook and fell away from Harry's mouth to grab handfuls of her own hair, twining the chocolate colored strands in frustration. "Argh!" She groaned. "Harry, I can't explain this in such a short amount of-"

Harry whimpered and then the soft cry repeated itself.

"Harry…" Megan breathed, raggedly. "I can't. You don't understand. I couldn't do this to you. You don't know the consequences of-"

The tears spilled over Harry's face, pouring out of his streaming down the pale face in great, big tracks. The cry repeated itself, the intensity fading as Harry's body began to grow limp.

Conflict warred across Megan's strained face. Her hands fell to her sides and she carefully shifted so she now hovered over the fallen boy, instead of literally half-squashing him. She grimaced, stretching her jaw as it popped audibly. A saddened tinge materialized in her bright silver-grey eyes as she bent her head and nuzzled gently along Harry's neck, undoing the buttons on his shirt and exposing more of his neck for her attentions. "You don't understand, love." The voice grew more rasping. "You deserve so much better than…this."

The cry began to repeat itself and was interrupted halfway.

Harry twitched, struggling feebly for a moment, before relaxing.

Warm lips had covered his own and effectively silenced him, providing a different simulation instead. The soft lips continued to move and press gently, insistently, and Harry didn't protest when the kiss deepened and slender hands slid into his hair. The sudden, overpowering scent of sweetness flooded over him, enveloping him in sudden, safe, warmth. The lovely lips pulled away and Harry struggled to pull himself together as sleep began to tug harder on him.

"M-meg?" He managed.

"Harry." The older girl whispered. "Harry. Harry. Harry." The hands in the black hair gentled at once. "Oh Harry."

The tears began to flow again and this time, they were hot and angry as they trailed down his face. Harry sniffled. This would all go pear-shaped in another few minutes. There was no way that anything good could ever happen in his life and especially now, when he really was alone after all. He'd always be alone and—another keening cry slipped past his lips.

Meg's control snapped. Her lips curled back and she snarled, as the hand in Harry's hair tightened at once, roughly jerking his head to the side as he lay, unmoving on the ground.

_I knew it. _Harry almost smiled_. I knew it…it never works out the way that-_

Meg's hands morphed to claws and shredded through the fabric of the upper half of Harry's Gryffindor uniform.

There was no warning.

A sharp pain stabbed through Harry's neck and shoulder. He began to struggle with, the last fragments of his energy and consciousness. A low growl sounded at his ear and Harry froze. Something inside urged him to relax, not to fight it. His own dark thoughts coaxed him to do just that. His life was messed up as it was. It would be fate if he were to simply fade off and away from everything now.

A final, hazy thought registered that someone was biting him.

No, Meg was biting him.

Meg had fangs.

Very sharp fangs and very soft lips.

The softness worked gently to ease the sharp points fastened at the juncture of his neck.

Blackness swam at the corners of his eyes and Harry surrendered.

He didn't care anymore.

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><p><strong>AN: I survived the wedding and the dance. Only made one bungle and thankfully, it wasn't too embarrassing. Whoop. Ah, anyway, this was the first half of one of the turning points. As I said, the fic sort of picks up from here and things change pretty quickly. Since there's been several of the same questions/comments on this fic as there's been in the original, I might copy over some review responses, so I'm not repeating myself too much. ^_^  
><strong>

**If you have questions, ask and I'll try to answer what I can, within reason. Please read the responses below, you may find answers to questions before you even ask.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>RamaFan<strong>: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'll try to explain, okay? You've got some of it right, yes, it is a supposedly extinct creature. Supposedly, there's not real proof that none exist at present. Ah, actually, there aren't any students confirmed as Dragels. Professor Terius is the most obvious as a Dragel, though and if looking, he'll be the one to give it away. Snape is never really confirmed or "seen" as Terius is, with his wings, claws and such. He already has an odd reputation, so some of what he does/says can be explained away. Now, there's something that has been done to give the recent flux of creature inheritances, magical majorities, etc. This happens much later. Er, I'm not really sure what you mean by everyone knowing what's going on, all that's been happening with Harry, no one really knows what's been happening and he hasn't said anything. Everyone's been preoccupied with their own things and canon Harry never really draws attention to his own problems, he likes to try and handle them on his own. Voldy shows up through some of his DE's, this is a slow moving fic, so yes, he hasn't made an appearance yet, but he'll be there. There's some reasons for his submissiveness right now (a later plot point as well) and he is a predatory creature, but his wizard side is mostly on survival mode right now, which includes not drawing any attention to himself. Thanks for the suggestions and recommendations, I will definitely work on fixing this when I rewrite, but if I stop to do that now, I probably would lose the drive to actually complete the fic. This version is receiving some tweaks, as opposed to the original, based off of suggestions I've received to pacing/plot/villains, etc, so please continue to share what you think! I appreciate it. :)

**Amanda Mau:** Thanks for taking the time to review. This is one of the longer chapters. ^_^

**shugokage**: Thanks! There are quite a few subplots and little mysteries that will be very slowly revealed.

**miro28**: Thanks for reading!

**DurzoKylar**: Glad you liked it! LOL-yes, I do have a real life and roughly about 20 other fics running at the moment, it is a wonder I have any sanity left. Thanks for your patience and your review-it made my afternoon.

**Penny is wise** : Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoyed this one.

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><p><strong>Q &amp; A (common questions from TBDH):<strong>

**Q: Harrys an extreme sub?**

A: Perhaps I made a bungle of it. Harry is submissive, in that, it is his position in the mateship circle, but these are Dragons we are talking about, (well, elemental hybrid dragons) They do not submit—well, unless they are fighting a duel to the death—but even so, they die in those cases, rather than submit/yield to the attacker. They simply build up circles(friendships) and nuture them in different ways, such as, you'd kiss your mate full on the lips, but you'd kiss your mum's cheek goodnight. Harry is reacting to Severus and Terius, because he is running on pure instinct as a 'child' Dragel, with no magic, and only his wizard self for a fall back. He understands that there are older 'parent figures' present, who can protect him and might be persuaded to do so, if he is 'good'. They are also the only full, adult Dragels that he's come into contact with yet. Part of his reasoning is from living with the Dursleys and trying to keep his head and sanity together, while having to do all sorts of other things that normally, no other ward would do, especially under the care of a relative. The other half has to do with the fact that he has no magic in him, Harry is magically sensitive, so he's just reacting.

For my Dragon society, it's similar to, for instance, Native American culture, where a great deal of respect is given to the elders and expected from the children towards them, simply because they've lived for a long time and have seen and learned many things. Dragels are 'dragons' that have lived for centuries, Harry will definitely run into quite a few important ones and this will affect him to some degree, but he's not about to become a good little submissive. As a 'human' child and of barely 16 years, Harry is considered a 'child' even though he of legal age. At the end of this chapter, Harry kind of flipped out a bit, (not finding a family to fit into right away, as most Dragels are adopted in some way or another and he's feeling the absence of being alone) and decided that was it. He wrapped himself up completely to the point where when he ran into Megan, his Dragel came to the forefront to protect him and ended up initiating a heartcry instead. He didn't realize it though and as such, figured that Megan was going to kill him and decided that he was fine with dying. Did I get your question right? I hope so and if not, well, I hope I haven't somehow ruined the story for you. Thanks for reading along so far!

**Q: Why doesn't he just go to Hermione?**

A: Hermione's been having her own issues, which we'll see pretty soon and Harry is hiding this. Hermione would not remain quiet in a situation like this where she can see that adults need to be somewhat involved. So Harry is avoiding her. His Dragel-self lets him know on a subconscious level that he shouldn't share this news with her.

**Q: Are you going to make Ron the villain? I don't think that's fair...**

A: Well, it's either Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Dumbledore, Sirius or...wait, I might as well list everyone. It's a story. The mystery is half the fun. Voldemort is a villain, for sure. I am not "redeeming" him. All other side villains will be added to the villain count. It may not be fair, but in most fanfiction, you have x amount of options unless you bring in an OC.

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><p><strong>Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I really do appreciate it. If I missed your review, my apologies! FF has been eating and alternately spitting out my alerts and reviews, so I haven't seen them yet. Sorry! <strong>


	14. The Scent of Your Care

**See chapter one for disclaimers/summaries/warnings. Others will be added as I see fit.**

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><p><strong>This is a STORY, it is FICTION. Don't like it, stop reading it. I am not twisting your arm nor your eyes. For me, this is a stress reliever in the midst of my hectic life.<br>**

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><p><em>PREVIOUSLY: Harry's professors advised him to visit Madam Pomfrey, but to continue hiding his creature nature, Harry avoided it for three days. When Severus Snape orders him to visit the Headmaster, Harry decides to ignore that and runs, only to find himself trekking along with Professor Terius and Snape with an injured Draco and Calida to see Madam Pomfrey at the Headmaster's request.<em>

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><p>Harry woke in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped in unfamiliar arms, surrounded by a somewhat familiar scent.<p>

He stiffened as he realized he was shirtless, though thankfully his lower half seemed to have retained a pair of pyjama bottoms. The hands splayed over his chest and torso were warm and soft to the touch. A tiny thought nagged him in the back of his head, taunting that he should know where he was and who was holding him.

Harry didn't dare move yet, trying to remember what had happened before he'd blacked out. He couldn't recall anything specific, just walking through the dungeons and feeling extremely tired. He thought maybe it was after he'd left Potions Class, but he couldn't be sure. He couldn't remember. What he did remember was the lovely scent wafting over him, its source being the one holding him from behind.

_Megan._

He twitched faintly, in shock. This was one of those odd fantasies that had played out in his dreams. He'd never thought of something like it could ever occur in real life. This had to be a dream. It would explain why he couldn't remember anything and maybe, just maybe, he could have a few moments of sanity—enjoyable sanity—where he could be himself without anyone trying to kill or maim him.

As if sensing his morbid train of thought, the arms holding him close, tightened.

Harry swallowed hard. He squinted up in the darkened surroundings and puzzled it out. From what he could make out, he was comfortably tucked into a bed in the Hufflepuff dorms. The abundance of black and gold made it impossible for it to be anything else but Hufflepuff. Thankfully, the curtains were drawn shut around the bed and only a sliver at one corner near the head, allowed a trickle of light to show in.

Huh. He'd never had a dream that led him to the Hufflepuff dorms before. Most of his sleepwalking had confined him to the Gryffindor common room, once Percy had discovered that and the eldest Weasley, though a prat, had managed to speak to McGonagall about setting up a ward to keep him from wandering too far. Harry never let on that it didn't work after the first few weeks.

He shifted enough for a bit of cold air to slip down the blanket and it brought a shiver. Harry wrinkled his nose. Cold was bad. He much more preferred it be warm and soft.

_Hm. _

Warm and soft.

There was currently a very warm, comfortable thing snuggled up to him—a thing that didn't make sense, until said thing moved and a confused Harry equated it to a person.

_Megan. _

It was really her, it had to be!

This could turn out to be the best dream ever!

There was a chuckle from somewhere behind him and Harry twisted in the arms holding him close. His first reaction was to run and the second was to stay. The reactions battled it out between themselves as Harry tensed for the outcome.

"You're thinking too hard." Megan's soft, lilting voice whispered in his ear. "And you are most certainly not dreaming. I can see it on your face. I am no dream, surely this feels real enough?" She wriggled faintly, against him.

All thoughts of running promptly extinguished themselves.

If he dared to think this wasn't a dream, then he'd hold onto this for as long as he could.

Megan shifted and somehow Harry found himself half-sitting up and held comfortably to a soft silken bosom. He had no complaints as the older girl shifted to cuddle him properly. Regardless of her statement, it did seem too nice to be real. But it was comfortable and comforting and he needed it. His sleep-fogged mind suggested that if it wasn't a dream, he ought to go back to sleep.

Harry nearly rolled his eyes, but that seemed to take too much energy. He was tired. Again. It felt as if he'd slept and the sleep had helped, but he was tired, as if the rest hadn't helped at all. Everything was so mixed up!

_Megan_? He tried to say. But instead of actual words, a faint whine of distress came out.

A soothing rumble sounded nearby. The chocolate-haired beauty leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of Harry's forehead, just beside that troublesome scar. Her long fingers curled and stroked as they carded through the messy mop of black hair.

Harry felt his eyelids slide halfway closed. Dream or not, he didn't care. This was nice. So very nice. A soft, purring sound bubbled out as he yawned and buried his face back in the softness of that silk-covered chest. He was still tired, but now it didn't feel quite as bad, more like just a happy tired. He winced as a spike of pain shot through his right shoulder.

"Harry?" Megan pressed her lips to his head, breathing soft, warm breaths though the tufts of hair as her hands shifted to rub in soothing strokes over the tired body draped over her. "You've been out for a while. We need to talk. How are you feeling?"

Harry began to move in answer and stopped almost at once when putting any pressure on his shoulder made the pain intensify. He didn't remember that and it hurt! It really hurt! His mouth opened and again, instead of words, a panicked trill turned into a pained whimper.

"Ah, I almost forgot." Megan murmured. "I am sorry about that. I couldn't help myself. Not when you called like that. I don't think anyone could've resisted." Her warm hands stroked up and down, inching upward to the aching shoulder before it skittered lightly over the sensitive soreness.

To Harry's surprise, it took the edge off of the sharp darts of pain. He made another muffled sound, a mixture of confusion and surprise.

Megan smiled. "You were irresistible, like a precious treasure."

Harry blinked up at him. _Me? A Treasure? No. _Megan certainly spoke of someone or something else. Harry stifled a shudder. He didn't like that thought. He didn't want her thinking of anyone else. Not when she held him close and spoke so kindly. He shivered.

"Still cold?" Her soft voice held a hint of amusement and she drew the blankets up around them, careful to leave it off of Harry's aching shoulder. "Better?"

Harry couldn't stop the purr that came forth once more, especially now that he was warm and mostly comfortable again. Everything was delightfully mixed up and confusing, but he didn't care. If this was a dream, then he'd enjoy every last second of it to his heart's content. He sighed and snuggled closer, the tension slowly leaving his body. His shoulder twinged faintly and suddenly, the warm stroking hands, began to move and shift him.

A distressed whine was his only protest, until Harry realized that Megan had shed her dressing robe and now wore a simple, shift. Her skin was creamy paleness and free of freckles or marks.

_Huh_.

He liked that new adjustment.

Willingly sinking back into the welcoming arms, Harry nestled himself in the new warmth and breathed deeply. The scent was more discernible in this state. It was something faintly of vanilla and lavender and perhaps a hint of steel. His mind argued that someone couldn't really smell like steel, but Harry didn't care. If that's what Megan smelled like up close, then that was exactly what Megan smelled like. His nicely ordered thoughts could go take a hike if they intended to mess up his dream! He took another good whiff, breathing deep. The lavender scent was perfect.

_Probably some girl thing_, Harry thought, tiredly. He yawned against the smooth skin and without thinking, licked it.

At once, he was awake.

The taste was exotic and sweet, nearly exploding on his tongue as his sleep-fogged mind bustled into activity. He liked that taste. He liked it very much. Harry tilted his head and took a bigger, more experimental swipe of his tongue, to feel the arms cradling him, tighten quite nicely and a soft hitch of breath from somewhere above his head.

Ooh, that reaction was nice.

Harry did it again.

Megan shifted.

Harry almost laughed.

"Har-ry." The name was breathed as a groan. "Don't…tease, I haven't the patience for-"

Harry blinked innocently up at her, even though he knew that the older girl couldn't quite see him. Megan shifted and Harry was suddenly presented with a perfect bicep just in reach. His eyes twitched and flickered and he knew they were shifting to their natural, Dragel state. He couldn't be bothered to worry about it, because—just as suddenly—his fangs were morphing out of his gums and the only thing he really wanted to do was to take a good bite out of that arm…

Megan flinched when the fangs sunk into her flesh. The bite was awkward and inexperienced, but she really wouldn't have it any other way. The moment Harry was completely engaged, she shifted her attention back to the bite she'd inflicted the day before. To seal the claiming mark, she needed to tend to it after Harry had reciprocated in kind. She licked, sucked and kissed the abused, inflamed patch of skin, noting that there was a perfect, round circle instead of two crescent shapes. _That was nice._ She thought, absently. She'd taken a long time to decide on a specific formation for her own marks. She'd never dreamed the day would come so quickly that she'd be able to find a Dragel Submissive.

The redness on Harry's shoulder faded, the pain disappearing with it as the mark remained, though paler than it had been before. It would be sensitive to his touch, always—and would provide him with the opportunity to provide greater pleasure or comfort to his new mate.

"That's enough, Harry." Megan tapped gently on the head, trying to ignore the feelings stirred up by the faint sucking motions and Harry's equally soft lips. It wouldn't do for her body to respond to the tender ministrations just yet. It was quite normal for submissive Dragels to grow addicted to the taste and scent of their mate, particularly when a fine, liquid sheen of said scent would display itself on the dominant's body when aroused, but this wasn't the time. To Harry, blood wouldn't taste like blood to a creature that was literally half the essence of blood magic. It would be more like Ambrosia. Megan flexed her hand, waiting. She wanted to have some time with Harry before their instincts took over, at least. She wanted him to have time to prepare before their circle expanded and her body changed to take on all the dominant alpha traits, once Harry selected a suitable beta.

Harry made a sound in the back of his throat, happily drawing on the wound.

Megan sighed. She caught one pale ear between two expert fingers and gave a light twist, just enough to catch the boy's attention.

At once, Harry's fangs slid free and he leaned away from the touch, eyeing her suspiciously. He hadn't done anything wrong, had he?

Megan chuckled at the adorable expression. "That was fine. You didn't do anything, I just needed to do this." She traced one finger in the bloodied bite and drew a circle, adding a few dots and then crisscrossing it with three lines. She muttered softly beneath her breath and Harry twitched, faintly. The bleeding circle turned instead, to a complicated tattoo done in a deep, red ink. The wound melted away to clear, unblemished skin and only the tattoo remained.

Harry's eyes grew wide and then he hissed, as a burning sensation rippled on his formerly aching shoulder.

"Harry, Harry, shhh!" Megan soothed, drawing herself up and catching the flailing arms and legs, effectively trapping the smaller body beneath her, the strength surprising. "It's fine. It's fine. Harry, love, please! Everything is fine." She soothed, layering, gentle kisses along Harry's face and neck, before finally nuzzling the new tattoo in experimentation. Harry went boneless beneath her, with an audible chir of pleasure. Megan chuckled, a knowing look settling over her angular features. "Oh, you like that, do you?" She repeated the caress. A flurry of happy noises came from Harry, punctuated by a little wiggle and followed by a sudden, perplexed frown. He really wanted to talk and yet, his voice simply wouldn't cooperate. Another laugh came from the grey-eyed girl. "You cannot do _that_, until I do _this_…" Her elegant hands found their way a little lower than before and Harry's eyes grew wide.

For a moment, he turned his head away, pressed into the sheets, turning red with embarrassment and shame as the long-fingered hand slipped into his pyjama bottoms and straight into his pants where they fondled and stroked, taking interest with a rather sensitive portion of his anatomy. The long fingers handled him with expert care, pulling, teasing and fisting with just the right amount of pressure. His body burned pleasurably as Megan's head bent to his neck and bit down, lightly, on the tattooed mark.

That was all Harry needed.

He keened in pleasure as he came to completion and his body arched upwards off the bed as his mind happily blanked out for several blissful moments. When he returned to himself, a fierce, mortified blush danced over his face and he couldn't quite look the other girl in the eye. But even as he looked away, he was willingly soothed and adored by Megan's magic hands. The embarrassed red faded to a manageable pink flush all over his pleasured body.

"Say something now." Megan suggested. "I believe that should've done it."

"Done what?" Harry said, hoarsely. His green eyes grew wide as he heard his own, rich voice and then realized that he really was speaking and not in the jumble of sounds he'd been making since he woke. He sound quite different now.

"That." Megan's laugh sounded again and she shifted to settle them comfortably together. "Until I show I care for you in an intimate way, your Dragel side would have you resort to more drastic measure to grab my attention, seeing as I am your first mate." Her grey eyes were sharp and intense. "Your Alpha. When you are marked for claim as you were, it temporarily pushes your Dragel instincts to the front and forces you to communicate in your natural way. It means I cannot ignore you." She smiled at the look on Harry's face. "Not that I'd want to, really. But it does ensure that no unclaimed Dragel of dominant nature would be able to refuse you like that. You are quite lucky it is a weekend, you know." She said, conversationally. "If it were any other day of the week, this might not have been so easy—and thankfully, I am good friends with our resident prefect."

Harry wriggled faintly in response. He had to ask, even if it came back to bite him later. "So I'm really not dreaming am I—ah."

The expert fingers dug gently into the sensitive skin and wrung a pleasured moan from the smaller body. "Definitely not dreaming, love." Megan whispered. "Go to sleep, Harry. I'm sure you have many questions and I will be happy to answer what I can. But that did take quite a bit." She yawned.

_Sleep_? Harry wanted to protest. His head was brimming with questions. His mind was a lovely, jumbled mess. His body was all but screaming for something that literally made him feel as if his face was on fire and Megan wanted him to sleep? He could have cried and laughed at the same time.

But the same expert fingers gently stroked that sensitive mark and Harry yawned. A wave of tiredness washed over him and his eyelids began to droop.

"Sleep." Megan hummed.

Harry was out like a light.

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><p><strong>AN: Hello dear readers! As some of you may have heard, some very personal and upsetting things in RL life recently that had me place all fic-writing on hold for a bit. Thankfully, they are smoothing out enough so I can breathe again and also write just a little bit. My sincere thanks and appreciation to those of you who PM'd to make sure I was alright. Thank you very, very much, your kindness is appreciated!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Check REVIEW RESPONSES in the FORUM! Copy and paste to get there, then scroll down to find your review and my reply. Replace the (heresadot) with actual dots as FF eats all urls.<br>**

**fanfiction**(heresadot)**net/topic/113711/68160871/1/**

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><p><strong>~Scion<strong>


	15. A New Day

**See chapter one for disclaimers/summaries/warnings. Others will be added as I see fit. See A/N at the end. **

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><p><em>PREVIOUSLY: Harry's visit to Madam Pomfrey results in revelations he never expected and being Bonded to Megan Jones as his Dragel Alpha. Harry finally has a chance to know what it feels like to complete a resting period without worrying over it. <em>

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><p>Harry woke several times over the weekend.<p>

He didn't register much.

Just that there were a few freshening charms cast on him and nothing more. He slept, rested and enjoyed himself. A few times something would startle him from sleep. He'd wake with an inquisitive sound in the back of his throat and would snuggle back into the blankets at a reassuring purr from Megan. A few times he woke to stretch and roll over before promptly going back to sleep. It was a nice cycle.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to sleep with such ease. He fully intended to enjoy every moment of it, granted that he was allowed.

At one point, a nice smell stirred him from dreamland and Harry opened his eyes to find the older girl sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him, her light-grey eyes alight as she inspected a large bowl of cubed fruit. She looked up at Harry's sleepy inquiry and then patted the bed beside her. "Fruit. You haven't eaten much of anything, I think you should." She said, by way of explanation. "Hungry?" With ease belying her taller frame, Megan shifted to share the bowl and Harry realized that her hands had shifted to claws. She was sorting through the fruit bowl and occasionally spearing random chunks of fruit before chomping on them. Her fangs were slender and delicate to the eye, until Harry saw her take a good bite out of a rounded specimen.

It reminded him of the feel of her fangs in his neck. They were far stronger than they looked.

He eyed the bowl and his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he wasn't taking care of it—as usual. He struggled to sit up with sleep-weary limbs. He was so tired—and _hungry_!

Megan favored him with a light smile, before she speared a chunk of peach on the end of one clawed hand and held it out. "Eat this, at least before you sleep again. It'll help. You haven't really eaten much lately, have you? I didn't want to wake you, because it looks like you needed the rest too."

Harry yawned—and as he did so, opened his mouth and squeaked when the chunk of fruit was pushed in. He scowled at the older girl who didn't seem to notice as she continued to explore the large bowl of fruit. Harry ate until he felt comfortably stuffed and sticky with fruit juices. At that point, Megan murmured a spell as he sprawled out on the sheets and Harry was happy as his fingers to unstuck themselves thanks to the shared cleaning charm. He hadn't felt comfortable eating fruit with his claws as Megan had, but he supposed it was because he just wasn't used to it yet.

The little detail of the cleaning charm wasn't missed either—Megan had thought to cast the charm for both of them—and Harry was grateful. Sometimes, he really missed having magic.

They slept some more.

Harry woke to Megan's insistent shaking and peered blearily up at the shadowed figure. "Meg?" He mumbled, nestling back into the pillow as the now familiar hands carded through his hair. That felt very nice. He knew the hands now and loved the sensation. This was something he could definitely grow accustomed to. Now that his curiosity was satisfied, he could go back to sleep.

The hands stopped abruptly and Harry's eyes flew open with a growl forming in the back of his throat. He'd really been enjoying that—it was a completely new experience and he hadn't wanted it to stop. He stared at the amused face, completely unnerved by the humor glittering brightly in the silvery-grey eyes smiling down at him. "S'not nice." He managed and resisted the childish urge to pout.

"I could have used a tickling charm, Harry." Megan said, mildly. "Believe me, that was very nice. It's time we were both up, I'm fairly certain you don't want to be late for the day." Megan rose from the bed and slipped out between the parted curtains. She snagged a two-toned scrap of fabric from the corner of the headboard, her figure visible through the gap in the curtains. Harry watched as she knotted her black and gold tie before tucking it into her jumper. She'd wakened and showed and dressed already, it seemed. For a moment, he was disappointed that he hadn't been able to watch, but that thought disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. "Breakfast is starting in twenty minutes and while I don't mind escorting you, you do need to be awake and dressed for it." She winked.

Harry blinked. _Breakfast. Clothes. Gryffindor. Potions Class. Snape. Draco. Madam Pomfrey. Dumbledore. Terius. Running into Megan_. His mind suddenly filled the gaps that had eluded him for the past two days. He sat bolt upright with a yell and then a blush as glittering silvery-grey eyes raked over his nearly naked form in obvious appreciation.

All other thoughts immediately fled as one particular memory surfaced of a talented hand down the front of his pants not so long ago.

"Remember something nice?" Megan asked, too innocently.

Harry snatched the sheets up around him and glared before a sudden flicker of panic set in. He could deal with the conflicting emotions and thoughts later, right now he wanted his head to work. "It's Monday, isn't it?" He swallowed hard. His last lucid memory was somewhere around Friday—Friday afternoon to be precise. His mouth was moving and words were spilling out. He'd slept through the weekend—again—that couldn't possibly be good and now there were sure be rumors flying about and questions that he couldn't answer and then there was Megan and there was probably even homework that would haunt him now that he'd fallen behind and oh joys! Harry ground his teeth together. His life was just one brilliant thing after another. His hands shook faintly with the emotion as he clenched them tight in the bunched sheets. "How long was I…I mean, has no one even…did we-?"

"I told Teacher Terius, whom in turn I believe told Severus. Which most likely means that Dumbledore knows and that is probably enough people to know in general." Megan reasoned, calmly. She tugged the bed curtains fully open. "What they know is probably quite a different story, but I haven't been told, so I suppose we should simply pretend to be surprised. Now come on, Everyone else is gone for the morning. We Hufflepuffs are early risers. Do hurry up." She waved a hand towards a chair at the window. "The elves must be in a good mood, because your uniform's here and it's clean." She smiled, waiting. "A few freshening charms likely wouldn't hurt either. I can cast them for you, if you like."

Harry eyed the stack of clothes and then looked away. "Maybe."

The grey eyes narrowed at once. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Har-ry." The name was drawn out with the faintest flicker of exasperation. "Fine, then. It's about twenty minutes to breakfast. I'm hungry and I'm sure you are too, so let's hurry up, alright?"

Harry hesitated.

Megan rolled her eyes. "Up!" She said, briskly and reached for the sheets, whisking them away and levitating Harry's newly cleaned clothes into his surprised lap. "Clothes. Dress. Now!" She turned away when Harry yelped and made to cover himself as he sat in nothing but his pants. "Not that I don't appreciate the view, but miraculously, I was able to control myself." Her stomach rumbled and the Hufflepuff winced. "Would you please, hurry already?"

A slightly red-faced, pink-cheeked Harry did so. He stumbled out from the nice, curtained bed and then blinked as Megan caught him, gently, with an arm around the waist. The taller girl hugged him close for a moment and then kissed the top of his head. Harry felt himself flush from the tips of his toes to the tops of his ears. "Harry." The quiet voice was serious. "There is nothing to be ashamed of. We are what we are and nothing will change that."

Harry stiffened in her arms.

_Freak_. The word echoed in his mind. _I'm a freak. I'll always be a freak and-_

"I cannot change answering your heartcry and you cannot change having called for me. My objections to your initial cry was only that I didn't wish for it to happen under the circumstances it did." Harry turned away, but one of the arms holding him close loosened to allow a hand to cup up and turn his face back to meet the serious gaze of his new mate. "You deserve the world, Harry." Megan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of that famous scar. "I'd give it to you, if I could." Her expert hands began to run up and down Harry's mostly bare body in a rhythm that spoke of familiarity. "I am very proud of you and to have you. I am very honored as well. There is a great deal we have to discuss but for now, I think we should take things as they come. There is nothing to be gained from worrying and stressing over things we cannot control. Now, breakfast…?"

Harry swallowed as Megan's voice faded into the background noise of his head. This was a lot to take in, but he understood some of it—and he was remembering plenty. The conversation with Snape, hearing Draco's cry of distress, learning that Terius was a dragel—and discovering first-hand just how difficult it was to be rejected by his own kind in any way. Running into Megan. The hazy conversation. Being bitten. Being held. Being cuddled, kissed and tenderly cared for. A certain passage in his Care of Magical Creatures textbook. Megan's gentle touches of dominance. Those wicked, wicked hands. The conversation taking place while he zoned out. He came back with a start and heard Megan's quiet chuckle in his ear and felt her hands trailing softly up and down his side in a soothing rhythm. It prompted a rush of heat that made him want to shove the older girl away and simultaneously hold her close so she wouldn't see the horrible blush.

"Harry?" Megan prompted, after a moment. Her hands stilled, reluctantly, almost, it seemed.

The green-eyed brunet gave a grunt in answer, not quite trusting his mouth to speak and ruin whatever fragile fairytale this was.

"As much as I'd love to explain everything this very second and answer any questions you have—I, well, I suppose you'll learn all of my bad habits in short order, so I'd rather warn you of them first. Breakfast is soon and I tend to lose my patience if I do not have something to occupy my fangs." There was a faintly apologetic note in her voice.

The phrasing almost made Harry giggle. As it was, the very thought of giggling brought his nervousness to the front and he ducked his head, not knowing what to say. Breakfast would be anything but fun, this morning. He could practically see the way Hermione, Ron and Ginny would pounce on him and want to know where he'd been, what he'd done and why he didn't tell them anything. The twins were sure to be there and they most certainly would go about overfilling his plate and urging him to eat more than his stomach could handle—not to mention that he'd probably get that serious conversation they'd promised him.

Yes, if he could avoid breakfast he would.

Something warm and soft distracted him and Harry blinked to realize that Megan was kissing him and doing a rather wonderful job of it. His eyelids fluttered shut in pure enjoyment and by the time the kiss had ended, Harry found himself grinning and unable to feel the slightest touch of embarrassment. It felt right. It felt right in every single way that he could think of and that was enough reason to let go of what little doubts he had.

The textbook had told him a little bit about dragel mateship circles—nothing definite, but something. He had a feeling he was woefully uninformed and hope that it would not cause him too much trouble in the future. Some clues had instantly filled themselves in and that, coupled with some of Megan's reactions and words, had helped. He knew for certain now, that he was a submissive—after all, it was said that Submissives initiated a mateship circle and Megan said he'd answered his heartcry. Harry mused over it for a moment, wondering what that made Megan—his alpha or his beta? He was inclined to think of the taller, older Hufflepuff as the alpha, simply because of the muted, commanding air that she wielded around herself, without so much as a blink. He also didn't like to think of her being beneath anyone else.

It didn't suit her.

Another kiss drew him out of his thoughts and Harry gave into that one with a happy purr. He could think later. This was far more enjoyable to—the kiss ended and Megan finished with a light peck to one cheek.

"Clothes, Harry." She murmured. "Before I decide to eat you instead of breakfast."

That did the trick.

The teasing tone had Harry pushing away from her, as his face heated up to royal temperatures. Megan didn't protest, but rather and backed up a handful of steps, allowing some space. Harry took that moment to look at the clothes that had been in his hands moments before and were now in a folded pile beside his feet. He bent down to scoop them up, consciously aware of the eyes studying him. He studiously ignored them, settling for taking a quick look around his present surroundings, something, he reminded himself, that he should've done earlier.

Of course, he hadn't really been awake or standing up straight to take in much of the room and now that he did so, he could see that there were three beds, instead of four in a typical Gryffindor dorm and there was plenty of space all around with extra privacy curtains for the occupants to draw around their corners of the room. Harry turned back to see Megan waving her wand at the bed to set it to rights. The sight made him pause, before he dismissed it. Hufflepuffs were known to be hardworking and lending a hand wherever they could. It didn't surprise him that Megan was showing her true colors. The house elves probably adored her work ethic. It was something he could appreciate, knowing that most pureblood witches and wizards simply relied on house elves to do such menial tasks.

How he would have loved to use magic on basic chores at the Dursleys! At the very least, it would have made that version of temporary hell somewhat more bearable.

Megan looked up, catching his eye. Her face softened into a smile and she straightened. "If I turn around, would it help?" There was a teasing note in her voice.

Harry was sure his face couldn't be any warmer. He tried to distract himself and succeeded in thinking of a relatively harmless question. "Where are the others?"

"Others?" She sounded puzzled.

"Turn around!" Harry shot back, hugging the clothes to his chest.

Megan snorted, but her figure was hidden from view by the curtains on the bed and she did actually turn around as requested.

"The room."

"What-oh. The Prefect's room actually." Megan half-laughed. "It's really Hannah's, but she hates being alone, so me and Susan stay with her. We've been friends for years and we Puffs, don't stand on much formality. At least not within the House anyway, there's absolutely no need for it. Besides, because of it, we even managed to earn an en suite." She gestured to the bathroom, a slender door half-hidden beside a tall wardrobe. "Susan was in the running for Head Girl you know, but ah…something came up and she couldn't keep her grades at the same level as others." She hummed softly to herself. "Also, seeing as the three of us are the only creature types present among the Puffs, we share. It helps, especially when we don't have someone like Teacher Terius to run to or Professor Snape and we tend to really try to avoid trouble him, the dear man."

Harry blinked. That was news to him and the endearment made his stomach twist. It certainly wasn't a phrase he'd attach to the fearsome Severus Snape. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why'd you, you know?"

"No. I don't."

"Terius and Snape, why'd you go to them?"

"Apart from the fact they are dragel?" Megan perked a brow. "Snape—as you so eloquently put it—is Severus and he is a very distinguished Alpha, at least by current standards. He is usually fair, if only in private, but we older Puffs' try to show our respect and return the favor to him in any way that we can. As for Teacher Terius, well, he is mated to Severus and Draco, while Calida is their sub. They form a very basic start for a mated or Bonded circle. Besides, it helps to have an older dragel to defer to at times, if only in the interest of keeping the peace and the safety of Hogwarts." Meagan rose from the bed. "Finished?"

"Yeah." Harry scrubbed a hand at his head. His hair was hopeless enough without making it worse. "Safety of Hogwarts?"

"Have you done any research on Dragels?" There was a touch of humor in her voice.

Harry shrugged. "I tried. There isn't much out there."

"I assume you tried the usual, common ways—Owl Order or Hogwarts library?" She ticked them off on her fingers. "Ah, so that's why you were in the library that day. I did wonder. I put it together, but I didn't want to assume and say something I shouldn't have."

Green eyes narrowed in response. "Was I that obvious?" He said, bitterly. He'd only been trying to figure out yet another one of the twisted puzzles that made up his complicated life. "I didn't exactly have any other options."

"I don't mean anything by it." Megan stared at him in surprise. "Harry, really." She blinked. "I honestly do not. I was simply stating the facts. See, even dark texts wouldn't have had much to share, we're a very private and closed society. I would have been quite worried if you had found something." She frowned. "You are now more than entitled to my encyclopedia though, for free too, seeing as you're mine now."

"What?"

"You can keep the chocolate frogs." Megan teased. "Though on second thought, I might just take them anyway, because chocolate is always good in any form. You're welcome to borrow the encyclopedia any time you like. I don't know whether it will be the kind of help you're looking for, but we'll deal with that when we have to. I'll lend it to you today—seeing as we are Bonded now and you may borrow it whenever you like. I would suggest reading the entries on Dragels—memorizing them, even." She frowned. "Which worries me, didn't your mentor provide you with anything?"

"What mentor?" Harry said, bluntly. "Who?"

Megan blinked. "Your Dragel mentor—everyone has one." She began slowly. "Everyone. I have one that appeared during my transformation. It is mandatory."

"Really." Harry snorted.

"Yes, really. I've never known someone who didn't." A look of worry flickered over Megan's face.

"and yet another one…" Harry muttered to himself.

"Harry?"

"There wasn't anyone." He scowled. "No one. Nothing."

"Nothing at all?" Megan bit her lip. That definitely couldn't be good.

"Absolutely nothing." Harry squirmed under the intense gaze. "C-can we leave now?" A hand strayed to his stomach, as if to reinforce the hunger factor.

"By absolutely nothing, do you mean,"

"I mean nothing. Please, can we just-?"

Megan sighed, reluctantly. "As you wish. I'll leave it be for now, but this important and it is not good." She frowned. "Didn't you want any freshening charms?" She knew that she certainly would have desired an entire barrage of them, especially after sleeping through nearly three days.

Well, the charms and another important detail.

"Can't. No magic." Harry braced himself.

Nothing happened. Megan simply stared at him as if he'd announced a trip to the loo, something ordinary and normal. "How awful." She said, primly. Her wand slipped from her sleeve holster and she tapped it against her leg. "May I?"

Harry shrugged.

A tingling, stiff feeling sprinkled over him. His mouth dropped open in surprise when he felt the lingering taste of mint.

Megan grinned. "Satisfactory for you?" She replaced the wand and checked the clock. "That should have covered everything, but one particularly pressing matter that doesn't seem to have registered yet."

"What?" Harry stared at him. It took a moment longer. Then he flushed deep red once more. "Just a moment." Harry scrambled to the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind him.

The pretty Hufflepuff laughed after him.

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><p>As they neared the Great Hall, Megan stepped sideways and gave his shoulder a little squeeze. "I'll see you later, love."<p>

Harry stared after her, the unexpected touch welcome, before he realized the weight of the words. Megan didn't have any issue with him being a Gryffindor or anything of that sort, but it bothered him on a deeper level that she didn't mind that he'd be seated and surrounded by fellow, red-blooded students. It was almost as if she didn't care that he would be without her. It didn't matter to her that he'd be with others or that he could possibly be in danger—well, possibly—Harry couldn't be sure, they were his fellow housemates after all, but he couldn't help but feel disappointed.

A sudden, new emptiness that washed over him at the fact that his new mate didn't want to sit next to him to share their first official meal.

"You don't want me to sit with you?" Harry looked at her in confusion. He didn't know much about any of this whole mate and circle thing, but he was just lucky that Megan had gotten stuck with him. She'd been nice enough when they were back in the rooms. Yet, now, it seemed like Megan didn't want to be around him. He really must have done something stupid to mess up the entire-

"What?" Megan blinked, staring at him with an equal measure of confusion. "I don't mind if you _want_ to sit with me. I'd be honored, but I do understand that you have your own life and friends and I doubt they'd understand if you decided to visit the Hufflepuff table and sit next to me. I know the girls in your house, they wouldn't let you have a moment's peace. I suppose I could sit with you, but that would bring us right back to the same situation. It would simply be less stress all around if we didn't change anything too much right now." Her brow furrowed further. "Er, Harry, did you want to sit next to me?"

Harry stared at the ground, puzzling through the words. It made sense. Sort of. It wasn't a lack of care, but rather a bit of trust. Megan trusted him to manage on his own and she seemed to mean what she said—at least, with a careful whiff, Harry could tell that the young woman certainly wasn't lying. But all the warm, happy feelings he'd had a minute ago had disappeared into nothing. He felt empty and hollow—like he had on the first day of summer just a few months ago when he'd turned up at the Dursleys.

Vernon had beat him black and blue for simply showing his face. Harry hadn't had any choice. There wasn't really anywhere else he could go without causing a fuss and the very last thing he wanted to do was cause trouble for people. The summer at the Dursley's had started out bad and gotten worse. What happened after that was a blur. The kind of blur that Harry didn't really want to deal with it. He squared his shoulders and straightened up. He could do this. He could manage. He'd done it for years and it was almost two months he'd managed with his Dragel Inheritance. He could do it.

He always had.

_Always_.

He now realized that Megan was eyeing him with a sudden, new measure of concern. "On second thought, perhaps you ought to come with me. I doubt the rest of us 'Puffs would mind. Are you sure you're feeling alright? You don't look it." She reached out to press a cool hand to his warm forehead.

"I'm fine." Harry blurted out, dodging the hand a moment too late. He found himself leaning into the touch before he could help himself. "It's fine. I'd just wondered. I wasn't sure if this was like Veelas and all that possessiveness. I feel fine. Really."

A sultry smile curved on Megan's face. "I can be very possessive if I need to." She murmured. "I won't smother you, if I can help it and if there's no reason for it. If you doubt that though, I am more than happy to demonstrate." She moved slowly, invading his space, the tempting look on her face tempered by the warmth in her grey eyes.

Harry sucked in a breath and slowly nodded. There was a promise in there that made him feel warm all over. It soothed a raw, achy portion of his soul and almost against his will, he found himself relaxing as she backed him towards the rough stone wall.

"You are precious." Megan informed him. "My precious." She planted a kiss on one cheek. "Precious." Another kiss for the other cheek. "Treasure." She kissed him softly on the lips. "Enjoy your breakfast." She bumped their foreheads together, then backed away, the smile still hovering about her lips.

He felt his face grow warm and knew he was blushing. He ducked his head even as a sudden, silly grin plastered on his face as he straightened his unnecessary glasses and fumbled to straighten his robes.

Megan had stopped them in a corner where they wouldn't be immediately visible to passersby and he was thankful for that little detail. He watched his new Alpha blend into the straggling flow of hungry students. Righting himself, Harry stepped out from the corner and fell into step. That little moment had said enough—it wasn't some deliberate snog to distract him or a casual peck on the cheek, it was a soft, tender gesture that chased away all depressing thoughts.

And it was just what he needed.

Harry grinned, goofily for a moment.

Breakfast sounded like a brilliant thing.

He'd be sure to enjoy it.

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><p><strong>AN: I apologize in advance if this author's note sounds like a rant, but I've put off updating this fic for several reasons, the main one of which will be mentioned below. **

**This is a STORY, it is FICTION. Don't like it, stop reading it. I am tired of deleting rude reviews and flames. While it does take quite a bit to annoy me, I am quite appalled at the rude and offensive behavior of some fanfiction readers. I do not want to disable anon reviews, because I know some people do not have FF accounts or find it easier to review as a guest. However, to each their own. I am just as entitled to my opinion and beliefs as you are to yours. If this story is not to your liking, then kindly go read something else. **

**Starting a "straight" version of my original "There Be Dragons, Harry" fic was done as a request to a special reader of mine, as such, I work on it when I can and there are some very distinct parallels to both. The original fic is quite close to nearly 450,000 words at 73 chapters and it is barely even 1/4 of the way through the storyline I have planned for it. It is incredibly angsty at times and there are many bittersweet and fluffy moments scattered throughout. There's not really that much "slash" in it either, and like it, this is not and will not be a smut fic either. The point of TBDH is an exploration into the realistic adventure of a "necessary" harem and the relationships involved with it. If that is not what you were looking for, then find another fic to read, as you will be sorely disappointed. **

**Thank you for those of you who have been supportive and courteous with your reviews/suggestions and questions. I truly appreciate them and you. **


	16. Her Eyes Were Brown

**See first chapter for disclaimers/warnings/summaries. ****_  
><em>**

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><p><em>RECAP:Harry and Megan Jones are newly claimed Alpha and Sub, still waiting to complete their bonds, but the weekend is over and they are now returning to daily life at Hogwarts, starting with breakfast. <em>

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><p>"Harry!" Hermione's shriek made him wince. "You're alright! Where were you? What happened? Why didn't you tell anyone you were going away to-"<p>

"Harry!" Ron's voice joined in the babble. "You had us worried." His blue eyes narrowed, suspiciously. "Where were you? What's going on?" He turned to look Harry from head to toe.

"I want to know too!" Ginny joined the fray. "You just disappeared and no one knew where you were. McGonagall didn't even know and I thought that you might've been-" The rest of her sentence was muffled as she threw her arms around him and hugged tight.

He flinched. She didn't let go. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "Er." Harry said, eloquently. He knew he would have been missed, but knowing it and seeing it was something else entirely.

She finally released him, but her dark eyes promised one of those serious kind of conversations that Harry always tried his best to avoid. "I'm fine, Ginny, everyone." He ducked his head. "I was just…really tired."

"Tired?" Hermione pursed her lips. Ginny and her exchanged a meaningful look.

"Yeah. Remember a few weeks ago?" He snapped. Their scents had spiked sharply and he didn't like the look passing between them. They knew something that he didn't think he'd like and it seemed like they weren't about to tell him.

The bushy-haired witch frowned. "Harry…" She trailed off warningly. Ginny frowned.

His actions seemed to be confirming whatever their silent conversation had been about. "I already visited Madam Pomfrey." Harry said, hastily. "I'm fine. She couldn't find anything wrong with me." He hoped his voice didn't sound too off. He was already noticing it seemed to hold a new, almost musical quality to it and he didn't think there was much he could do to disguise it. The best thing to do was avoid speaking as much as possible.

It shouldn't be too hard. He'd managed to do it for a while anyway.

Hermione looked as if she'd like to say something more, but she didn't get the chance as the Twins made their morning appearance and the usual bustle of chaos settled down at the Gryffindor table. Ron pulled her down to sit beside him and Ginny took her other side, effectively trapping the Head Girl from continuing her interrogation.

Before Harry had to wonder where he was sitting, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder and then Jennifer was in his line of sight, her smile bright and cheerful as she calmly inserted herself between him and his friends. "Morning Harry. Pass the toast?"

He nodded, slowly, reaching forward to lift and pass the heavy tray to her slender hands. "Morning."

"Thanks."

"…welcome." Harry stared down at his empty plate, wondering if he'd be able to handle eating anything today. He was sort of hungry, but his mind was mostly stuck on the fruit that he remembered Megan feeding him and suddenly, it seemed like too much hassle to deal with food. He hoped Megan was faring better than his sudden bout of indecision.

"Morning, Harry." Neville smiled as he passed him to take his usual morning seat. "Good to see you again."

"Morning, Neville." Harry answered, automatically. He smiled to himself at the genuine smile that had touched Neville's face, nearly all traces of shyness gone.

"Harry!" The Weasley twins chorused.

And that was all the warning he had. Harry was all but physically lifted and rearranged as the twins inserted themselves beside him, one on each side, prompting all the others to have to move and shuffle to regain their original seating order with the new additions. Jennifer gave them a dirty look when they elbowed her out of the way and made room for themselves.

Harry made himself smile, hoping that he wasn't about to be in some sort of trouble, because the smiles in their eyes did not quite touch their eyes and he was suddenly reminded of the fact that technically, the twins shouldn't really have been back at Hogwarts. They should have graduated and he was fairly certain they hadn't flunked or failed anything.

"Harry." Fred whispered in his left ear. "We were worried. You shouldn't disappear like that."

"Very worried." George agreed. "No note or warning, nothing. Don't do that again. It's a bit—not Harry." He flashed another toothy grin. "But don't let us weigh you down, have some breakfast. Eat some fruit."

"And toast. Toast is good. Tea?" Fred asked, politely.

Their voices were very quiet and very serious. There was absolutely no hint of humor between them and that alone was rather unsettling.

Harry gulped. He'd never heard the twins break out of their twinspeak before. There was something vaguely terrifying about it in a way that he did not want to examine. "Moring, Fred. George." He said, softly. "I'm actually not very-"

"Morning, Harry." They both repeated the greeting, in unison, effectively cutting off his protest. "Eat."

Harry wished he could turn invisible as the taller redheads began to reach around him and the table, filling his plate in their usual way. He was starting to wonder if it was some odd quirk of theirs, but knew better than to call them out on it. He liked having someone to worry over him, every now and then, it was nice.

It made him feel wanted.

Just like Megan did.

He hoped she was enjoying her breakfast. He snuck a glance at the Hufflepuff table and smiled when he saw her surrounded by her fellow students, everyone happy and chatting cheerfully. That was good. She looked perfect there, as if she belonged—and she did, he was sure—and somehow, just seeing her as the center of attention, made his morning. They weren't fawning over her or anything, but they were all taking turns asking questions and speaking in turn and Harry could tell. He didn't blame them for gravitating towards her, because there was just something special about Megan.

Lucky him.

Against his better judgment, he snuck a glance towards the Slytherin table, squinting to make out faces, so his eyes would adjust through the glass lenses. He spied a sleepy, yawning Draco sandwiched between a cheerful Blaise and Theodore Nott. Pansy was sulking at the far end of the table and directly beside her, Millicent was happily overfilling her breakfast plate, much to Tracy Davis's dismay.

Harry wondered how she could eat so much, when he caught sight of the Greengass sisters sitting together, opposite of Millicent. They were an entirely different story altogether and he almost wondered how they could be sisters as Daphne was pale, lithe and blonde in every way that Astoria was thin, auburn-haired and nearly the exact same height.

From what he could see, it looked as if Astoria was filling both of their plates and Daphne was reading a section of the Daily Prophet to her. As if sensing his eyes on them, the blonde paused—her lips stopped moving—and turned her head in Harry's direction, not looking away from the newspaper scrap until the very last second. It was just enough time for Harry focus on his own plate, hoping his ears weren't turning the shade of red that he could feel.

In addition to the blush, he could now feel a sharp-eyed gaze lingering on him and he hoped that it was Snape rather than Daphne. Snape, he could handle, Daphne, he didn't think so. A flash of movement at the opposite end of the Gryffindor table drew his attention to Parvati, who raised both eyebrows at him and gestured to his plate, mouthing the words 'eat.'

Suppressing a groan, Harry reached for his pumpkin juice and took a hasty swallow. Parvati shook her head at him and gave him a look that had Harry picking up his fork and stabbing it at the sausages near his toast. Once satisfied that he was eating, Parvati returned to her own meal. Harry chewed and swallowed mechanically, even though the meal tasted like sawdust.

He was halfway through his third mouthful when he realized that the weighted stare had moved and he looked up and over at the Slytherin table just in time to find himself staring straight into Daphne Greengrass's hazel eyes. He nearly choked. She held his gaze for a moment, then smiled—pleasantly—before returning her attention to her younger sister.

Harry swallowed. He wished breakfast was over already.

* * *

><p>The morning blurred through. Harry didn't remember much of it. Transfiguration was a bit odd. He was privately excused by McGonagall at Madam Pomfrey's orders and with Dumbledore's explanation—and so was given two essays to write instead. Harry had accepted with a grateful smile that the stern witch hadn't called him out on his lack of magic, nor had she made a big deal of handing him an alternate assignment.<p>

It didn't seem that anyone but Hermione noticed that something had happened and even Hermione seemed to be a bit off, looking a bit pale and on edge, as if she were suspicous of everything. He almost thought to ask if everything was alright, but a certain wildness in her gaze ahd made him flinch and that very reaction had him keeping what little bit of distance between them that he could. Ron didn't seem to have noticed anything, but Harry knew that the redhead could be dense at times and he hoped that he was simply overreacting. There couldn't really be anything wrong with Hermione, she was almost his rock.

Almost.

Harry pushed that away for later thought. He didn't want to deal with her and the questions that were sure to come, as Hermione's best way of avoiding questions was to ask more questions. Harry certainly didn't have any answers to give her and so he'd simply done his best to avoid being in that sort of situation.

He'd avoid it as long as he could. Charms was about the same, just extra essays and no deliberate special attention and Harry knew that the Headmaster had certainly had a hand in it. It felt like favoritism, but it helped, so Harry didn't complain. He wasn't up to it. He wondered how he'd fare in his other classes as bonding apparently hadn't done anything for his missing magic and he was missing it more than ever now.

When class let out, he trailed along with the others and slunk into the DADA classroom to find a rather shocking surprise. Daphne Greengrass was sitting at the desk to his left—right where he normally sat. He gulped. She didn't acknowledge him as he cautiously eased himself into his usual seat and snuck a glance around the room, realizing that Astoria would not be in this class.

A whiff of citrus curled through the air and Harry swallowed, unable to help the deep breath he'd just taken. He wasn't sure if the scent was coming from Daphne or someone else, but when he thought to take another careful look in her direction, the tall blonde greeted him with a warm smile that immediately sent his nerves packing. Harry managed a tiny smile in response, before hurriedly focusing on his things, just in case Hermione was paying closer attention than he wanted. The looks she'd exchanged with Ginny had his hackles up in the very worst sort of way. It was none of their business what he did—it wasn't like they'd really cared that much, lately.

His thoughts were jolted elsewhere when the classroom door banged open to show a certain, scowling professor.

Terius entered, his face set in the same scowl as he'd worn back in the hospital wing. He snapped out orders and soon everyone was standing and the desks were moved to the side and stacked and he was setting things out on the floor before them. "Today is going to be a practical example. I trust you will all be sure to pay attention and keep you awareness about you at all times. Today's example will feature a protection spell, known as a protection circle or tattoo, depending on how you wish to view it. It can be transferred to another surface, such as skin—the reason it is noted as a tattoo—or it can be placed in the main room of a house to protect all who enter and those who reside within its walls. I will repeat this again—pay attention!" Sea-blue-grey eyes roamed over every student, nailing them where they stood, a silent reminder that nothing was to go wrong during this class period.

Nothing did.

* * *

><p>They learned how to create a temporary protective tattoo that would guard the wearer from harm or provide additional defenses to a home when a spouse was traveling. Harry had to admit there wasn't anything dark about the ritual, just the fact that blood was required from the one leaving the home or the possible protector and then from the ones left at home or the intended wearer. It was rather brilliant and Harry tucked the thought away for later use, remembering a vague memory and the taste of something deliciously exquisite…<p>

"Class dismissed!"

The class ended too soon, it seemed and Harry began to pack up his things. He felt awkward in the classroom, having occasionally felt the professor's gaze resting on him and being unable to do little more than recall the final, cold words spoken in the hospital wing.

"_I do not acknowledge you, because you do not acknowledge yourself." _

It echoed hollowly in his mind and sat heavily in his stomach as if he'd eaten something that didn't agree with him. He didn't know what to do about it and his Dragel instincts didn't help much in their general consensus that he apologize to get into the good graces of the older man.

"I can't believe we have to learn this as if it's real magic." Hermione fretted. She was looking a bit paler than usual and the sudden burst of temper colored her cheeks with a bit more life than usual. She swiped at her bushy curls and readjusted her headband. "Honestly, blood magic is so unpredictable, suppose the protector was protecting someone that didn't want to be protected and the entire ritual was tainted, resulting in a-"

"Oh come off it, Hermione." Ron sighed. "It doesn't matter. It was kind of cool." Hermione fixed him with a glare and continued to grouse about it all the way out of class, so caught up in her fumings that she didn't search out Harry the way she'd been doing for the past week.

Harry was somehow jostled to the corner and he was about to leave when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He tried to see who it was, but in the same way he'd been shuffled to the corner, he found himself standing outside in the hallway as everyone else hurried on to their next class. He scowled and then reached down to adjust the strap on his bookbag before, charing forward and directly into Daphne Greengrass who was watching him now, with a curious expression on her face. He blinked at her, unsure of whether he ought to say something or not—after a discreet look around showed him that they were the only two standing in the corridor.

"Hello," she said, calmly.

"Hello," Harry managed. He looked around them again, unable to fight the feeling that something wasn't quite right about the situation, but mostly because he didn't know what to do about it, rather than from any real spine-tingling danger. "Hi," he heard himself say, a moment later and knew he was blushing when his ears tingled with warmth.

The second greeting produced a useful result though, because Daphne's solemn face shifted as she cracked a smile—a ghost of a smile really—and inclined her head down the hallway, inviting him to walk with her. "Hi," she echoed. "Shall we?"

After a moment's hesitation, Harry did.

They walked together, slowly and in near silence until Daphne spoke up. "You really should talk to him."

"Him? Him who?"

"Teacher Terius," Daphne inspected her fingernails, deliberately not looking at Harry. "I'm almost certain you don't really know, mostly because I think you're very nice. Very kind, at least." She stopped and he came to an automatic halt beside her. "He's only following your cues—he is a Pareya after all—and you couldn't possibly know that, at least, you should, but I do not think that you do." She tapped a finger against the left side of her mouth, as if in thought. "Whatever the case is, you should speak to him."

"I have nothing to apologize for," Harry said. His eyes narrowed. "And I didn't do anything."

"He's well into his first century," Daphne said, dryly. "I think you could make an exception." She wrinkled her nose and began to walk again, leaving him behind. "I did not mean that you ought to apologize, I merely meant that you might want to speak to him. He could help you, if you were so inclined."

"Help me?" Harry scoffed. "He hates me!"

Daphne's head gave a little shake and she disappeared around the corner.

Harry stared after her for a good minute, before he realized he ought to be walking and that he could have caught up with her. The moment he rounded the corner, the corridor was empty and he mentally scolded himself for the missed opportunity. He couldn't help thinking about her all the way tothe next class though and as he made it his seat, he couldn't help thinking that Daphne had very brown eyes.

* * *

><p>"Daphne Greengrass?" Megan hummed, thoughtfully. She sat in the center of her bed, braiding her shoulder-length hair, a length of ribbon between her lips. She was clad in a pair of simple, white cotton pyjamas, with black socks. "She's tall and very smart." She took the ribbon from her mouth and began to tie off the braid. They were back in her room again, she'd simply waited for Harry after the meal and then brought him up to her room without any ceremony.<p>

Relieved to be away from everyone and everything, as well as pleased to be with his Alpha again, Harry hadn't protested. He'd found that the shared room was empty and that there were actually large hanging curtains at the corners of the room, allowing each girl to pull them to section off their bed for additional privacy. Megan had smiled at his inquiring look and said something about good grades and polite requests.

Harry had been glad for the extra privacy and Megan's quiet company. He'd taken first turn in the shower, thanks to the private en suite and then he'd arranged his books on the desk, along with his homework, when Megan had asked. She'd spoken of her own day and the classes she'd attended as well as the assignments due, then asked him in turn. That was how they'd come to be speaking of Daphne Greengrass and he couldn't help asking what she knew of the Slytherin girl.

"Tall?" Harry echoed. He sat cross-legged at the foot of her bed, watching as she expertly twisted and wrapped the ribbon around the end of braid and then tied it off into a neat little bow. He supposed Daphne was tall, he could distinctly remember his face being level with her chest and finding that it was best to simply stare up at her face instead. He couldn't shake the image of her eyes from his head though and the more he thought about it, the more confusing it was. Something about her eyes tugged at him and he didn't know why. "Anything else?"

"That depends love," Megan leaned over to kiss his cheek, before she slid off the bed and moved over to sit at the tiny vanity set to complete her nightly toilette. "What else do you want to know?"

Harry bit back a sigh of frustration. He didn't know. He only knew that there was something niggling in the back of his mind and he wasn't sure what it was yet. "I don't know—I just—isn't there anything?"

Megan was quiet for a moment, lips pressed together as she slathered a thick night cream over her pale skin and then dabbed on a bit of lip balm. "She's smart, but most of the Slytherins are, they have to work extra to make up for the usual prejudices, I suppose." She walked over to the bed and began to turn the covers down. They would have to snuggle to fit comfortably, but she didn't think that Harry would mind that. "She's very kind, she's helped a few badger firsties on a bad day and she certainly never had to. There was no obligation of any sort. She speaks French and Italian, though she isn't either and she is very good at negotiating. I suppose it's because she's a Beta." Megan plumped up the two small pillows that had replaced her single pillow. The elves were very astute. She patted the left side. "Right or left?"

Harry gave a faint shake of his head, then crawled forward to take the right side. "A Beta? What do you mean?" He slid halfway under the covers, sitting up, braced against the headboard.

For a moment, Megan stared at him and then she turned out the light and crawled into the bed, sitting next to him, their arms touching. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew. She's dragel, like us. I'm not sure what element, I've never had the chance to look her in the eye, but she's a dragel and her rank is a Beta." Megan was quiet for a moment, before she hummed softly. "She's actually not bad, I mean, if you're asking my permission, I do agree. She's lovely. Smart. She would make a good Beta and I don't have any issue with her Slytherin affiliation."

"And you didn't think to mention that earlier?" Harry couldn't help saying. "Try saying that first next time!"

"You can smell it on it," Megan said, simply. "I assumed you knew, because I thought it was obvious. My apologies. I'll make sure to—as a matter of fact, I won't. I'll simply tell you now. There's about ten of us total, I believe, here at Hogwarts. There's more of us elsewhere as in not here. Let's see now, there' Millicent Bulstrode from Slytherin, she's a Pareya, I believe—a Protector—that's what Pareya means, in Gryffindor, we have Jennifer Dawn who is also a Pareya and she is a fire type—take care not to burn yourself, if you are interested in courting her, I think she's alright. She's nice enough. I don't know her that well, in all honesty. I believe the Patil twins are Pareya also, Earth types, if I'm not mistaken and a bit of other creature in them—I don't believe they're pureblooded dragel—they smell like something else," Megan ticked off her fingers in the darkness.

"Ten of us?" Harry repeated. He slowly eased down from bracing against the headboard to slipping beneath the sheets. He turned to face Megan, happy when she stretched out a hand to card through his hair.

She chuckled. "Yes, ten and maybe more. I haven't kept a direct count, I only know that with the exception of Mr. Theodore Nott, I am the only dragel Alpha, besides Severus Snape, who resides in Hogwarts at present. Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass are the only Betas present. I believe there is a Rheyo or two."

"What's a Rheyo? Do I need one? I know I need a Beta, I mean—I do, don't I?"

"Yes, you do. Preferably before you take on any other Bonded mates." Megan tugged gently on a curl of hair. "A Beta is something of a peacemaker between us, they keep me from smothering you too much and you from stressing over me."

Harry scowled in the door. "Too much stress."

She chuckled again and slid down to join him beneath the covers. "It helps to ease the stress and they are usually thought of as a second-in-command of sorts in a Bonded Circle. A Rheyo is simply an elected Beta, meaning that if there is more than one Beta, which happens in large Circles, then the other Bonded elect a second Beta of their choosing and they hold the title of Rheyo. Some Betas are simply more inclined to be Rheyos than others."

"Why do they have to have different names?" Harry grumbled. "Why can't they just-"

"It's Nevarean, love," Megan settled herself as comfortably as she could manage and looped one arm around Harry's waist, drawing him closer to her. "Nevarah is the realm in which dragels reside, Nevarean is their native tongue. You would not have to speak Nevarean to live there, but the common terms—things like titles and such—are spoken there, very much in the same way that the wizarding world uses latin."

Harry snorted. He didn't complain when Megan pulled him closer, though the entire situation was very new to him. It was awkward, enjoyable and foreign all at the same time. They would have to stay close, due to the bed's size, but at the same time, he liked being near her and the scent that continually surrounded her. The feeling of being so close to someone who genuinely cared, was an entirely different story. He could practically taste her sincerity and it made his chest ache.

Stubbornly pushing away the irritating thoughts, Harryfocused on sleep and nothing else, thinking only of the warm arm that Megan had wrapped around his stomach and the softwhuffling of her breaths over his head. His face was half-nestled intothe curve of her neck and he was warm and comfortable. Sleep came for him and he didn't fight it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter took longer than I expected, but at last, it is here. I hope you enjoyed it, dear reader. I appreciate your support on this fic. Megan is really fun to write and it looks like they might have found a Beta in Daphne Greengrass. Hmm. Thanks for reading!**

**-Scion**


	17. Feelings of Belonging

**See first chapter for disclaimers/warnings/summaries. ****_  
><em>**

* * *

><p><em>RECAP:Harry and Megan Jones are newly claimed Alpha and Sub, still waiting to complete their full dragel bonds, but the weekend is over and they are now returning to daily life at Hogwarts. Harry readjusts to student life and finds himself fascinated with Daphne Greengrass, only to learn from Megan that the Slytherin girl is a dragel Beta. There are even other dragels at Hogwarts. <em>

* * *

><p>Harry woke the next morning feeling warm, safe and quite definitely loved. Megan was curled around him, radiating warmth and security, smelling faintly of lavender shampoo and floral soap. He liked the scent and leaned back ever so slightly so he could enjoy it for a few moments longer before she woke. The bed had been small, but snuggled together, it hadn't seemed that way at all.<p>

Looking from his safe, warm cocoon, he was surprised to see that the privacy curtains drawn around Megan's section of the room had turned into stone walls. He couldn't believe it, but he could understand it. Hogwarts was a magical castle after all. He looked around him to see that the curtains had indeed shifted to be stone and there were two desks braced against the wall, rather than one—provisions for him, it seemed. He could make out a second hook near the bedroom door—perhaps for his school robes—and generally more space overall. Megan's section of the room hadn't been tiny, but it was more cozy now, as he realized there were a few more touches of dark brown and deep red, in addition to the elegant black and gold of Hufflepuff house colors.

Surprised, but pleased, Harry settled back against his pillow, sorting through the feelings that came with that revelation. He'd never expected that even the castle would notice his changed status. Dumbledore certainly hadn't done anything about it. He'd expected something, given the Headmaster's confusion and strange worry in the hospital wing, but yesterday had been surprisingly normal. Well, mostly normal for him, anyway.

His mind flickered back to their nighttime conversation and he found himself wondering about the other dragels within the walls of Hogwarts. He wasn't surprised that Megan knew them, he figured it was an Alpha thing and he'd expected her to know anyway, now that he thought of it. She was supposed to be well-informed and well-connected, at least, that was the instinctual explanation his sleep-addled brain allowed him.

In his mind's eye, he was simply left with the image of Daphne's very soft, very brown eyes burned into his memory. They were such a lovely, light shade of brown and yet, there was something off about it that he couldn't quite place. He didn't like not knowing what it was, but there also wasn't much he could do about it either. He could not ignore that or the new, itchy feeling that had come to him as he realized that there was something that did not quite feel right and he could not ask Megan for an explanation of something he didn't even know how to put into words yet. He was sure that it had something to do with his dragel nature, but he didn't know just what it was.

So, for the moment, he contented himself with thinking of Daphne and her pretty blonde hair and then of Astoria and her auburn tresses. He wondered if siblings were always such visible opposites, because even the Weasleys, for all of their uniqueness, had the identifying trait of pure red hair. Daphne and Astoria were sure to have a story in there somewhere and he wondered, briefly, what it was, before he realized that he would have to start readying for classes and breakfast. A low moan bubbled out from his throat and he burrowed unhappily back into his pillow.

A soothing, soft sound, a cross between a comforting rumble and a purr, came from Megan's side of the bed and a moment later, one of her arms slid free of Harry and began to gently stroke his back. The gesture was just as soothing as the sound and Harry allowed an unhappy chirp to escape as he soaked up the tender affection. It was one thing to wake up in a busy dorm room with Ron and the others, and an entirely different experience to wake up to warmth, softness and comfort.

"Morning Harry-love," Megan murmured, sleepily. She shifted to roll onto her back and gave him one final pat, before stretching carefully beneath the covers. "Sleep well?" She turned her head to the side to see Harry's half-hidden face. "The weekend will be here soon," She said, seeming to read his mind. "Just a few more days."

Harry sighed. He nodded, because it seemed as if she wanted some sort of answer from him and he didn't think he could manage one just yet. He had to admit that he did like waking up like this much more than his usual alarm clock and sleep-fogged mind, with Ron's snores for background musice.

Megan smiled, then reached for him with both arms. He went, willingly, allowing the hug that made his chest ache just a little less than before. She pressed a kiss to the side of his temple. "Shower. Breakfast. Classes." She recited. "The usual. But I do have something of a surprise for you."

"Surprise?" Harry blinked. He usually didn't have a very good track record with surprises, but he would be willing to give one of Megan's surprises a try. At least once.

"A fun one." She said, nuzzling his neck. "With food. You can meet me outside for lunch. We Badgers are having a picnic of sorts."

"A picnic?" Harry twisted around in her arms, as much as the embrace would allow. That was news to him. He thought that all students were required to be in the Great Hall during meals, at least, unless it was a holiday or the weekend. At the very least, Gryffindor had never had any picnics of any sort and he'd certainly never been on one. Outings with the Dursleys usually meant that he was either left behind or up an hour earlier to make up the meals for their picnic lunches. They'd never deigned to take him along with them, not that he'd really wanted to go—not with them anyway.

"A picnic," Megan confirmed. She ruffled his messy behead and chuckled at the face he made when she did so. "It's nothing fancy, but Professor Sprout makes it a reward of sorts, for us upper years. We're allowed, because we've earned it and we can invite one friend." She smiled. "I usually invite my fellow classmates or a firstie that looks like they could use a break. Today, I'm inviting you. It'll be fun and there will be dessert."

"It's just for lunch, right?" Harry asked.

"Just for lunch. We might have a few games in between. Some of the boys bring Exploding Snap or Gobstones. Nothing too complicated. Chess takes too long, but one of the girls has a Checkerboard."

Harry allowed his imagination to wander, thinking of fat sandwiches and crust-less bread, with lemonade and checkered tablecloths spread out on the grass. He frowned. "Rather cold for a picnic."

Megan laughed. "We are wizards and witches, are we not?" Her smile softened in understanding. "Warming charms. I'll cast one for you before we step out and Hagrid usually has a bonfire of sorts. Sometimes we can roast potatoes or such there."

Harry nodded, dumbly. He was amazed at the fact that Hufflepuffs had picnics and they were apparently a tradition of sorts. It was certainly one of the best-kept secrets he'd ever been a part of. His musings were cut short however, when Megan nudged him off of her and sat up, stretching her arms over her head. She eyed him for a moment, speculatively, then swung her feet off the bed and to the floor. "I'll take first turn in the shower—you can enjoy a few more minutes, if you like."

Harry grimaced. "No thanks. Once I'm up, I'm up. Otherwise I'll fall asleep in history again."

"I don't think anyone stays awake in history," Megan said.

"Hermione does." Harry wrinkled his nose, thinking of his curly-haired friend. She'd been acting a bit odd since school had started, but he chalked it up to girl stuff and the fact that he'd been able to scent that she was with Ron. They were probably both trying to find a way to break it to him and hoping he wouldn't be upset. He was, really. He had Megan now, anyway and he'd certainly never been interested in either of them for any reason. They were friends, good friends and he'd counted himself lucky to have them at all. Even Ginny was a friend too, these days, though she had also been acting rather odd lately and mostly in tandem with Hermione. He made a mental note to see if there was something happening there that he had missed. He didn't like being out of the loop, so to speak, it usually meant bad things would come his way quite shortly.

"She is probably the only one." Megan said with a laugh. "I have to pinch my arms to stay awake. Make sure you've got your homework all squared away and in your bag. I'll be quick." She was halfway to the en suite before Harry could say anything else.

He watched the door click shut behind her and wondered what it would be like to share the same shower. A flush of warmth swept over him from head to toe and he shook his head to banish that particular thought. It was welcome, but he did not need to think of that just then. Instinctively, he knew they were together and there were certain things that came with that. Rationally, he thought that there had to be something more—official, for lack of a better word—as proof of their Bonding. It felt as if there was something missing, but short of losing his virginity, Harry didn't know what was expected of him to make it official.

Megan certainly hadn't hinted to any of that yet and she seemed to be someone of deliberate focus and methodical operation. He was sure that if, given more time than the handful of days they'd had together, that she would see to the solidified bond and all necessary claims. He just couldn't help feeling rather antsy. He wanted to make sure that everything was set. Unbreakable. It had to be. He didn't want this single shot at happiness to slip through his fingers.

With a sigh, Harry thumped his head against the scrunched up pillow from earlier. He really needed to move his mind from this pointless thinking and onto more useful actions. Yes. Actions. Those were always better than words and thoughts that tangled up inside of him, making a muddle of things. Rolling out of the bed, he began to make it up. It took a few minutes and when he'd finished, he saw that a set of clean clothes had been set on the chair beside the wardrobe, just like it had been the day before.

The Hogwarts Elves were really paying attention, it seemed. He'd never given any thought to the fact that the Elves, for all that they did, were more observant than anyone gave them credit for.

Gathering up his homework from the night before, he tucked the appropriate parchments where they belonged and then double-checked that he had everything for the day's classes. There was a pitcher of lemon and mint water, with a few glasses on the small table next to the vanity, along with a bowl of fruit. Harry poured himself a glass, enjoying the refreshing taste and selected a handful of grapes to nibble on. The craving for fruit hadn't really subsided and it was something he didn't mind indulging, given that he was at Hogwarts and fruits were supposed to be healthy.

He had just gathered up his clothes and a fresh, fluffy towel, when Megan stepped out, wearing a short bathrobe, toweling her wet hair, barefoot and smelling of vanilla. He couldn't tear his eyes from her, feeling several emotions welling up at the sight before him. Out from under her school robes and without the flowy cotton of her pyjamas, Megan had lovely curves in all the right places and the fat knot of the bathrobe's belt only enhanced the fact that she was every inch a woman in those regards. Harry swallowed.

Pride warred inside of him, pride that his Alpha was such a lovely dragel specimen and a bit of hurt at the fact that he hadn't been invited to join her in the bath. Never mind that they had not quite consummated much of anything beyond their initial, deliberate claims of each other—but the yearning to be closer to her, to know her better, deeper and more intimately than he did at present, was half-instinct and half pure want.

"Shower's all yours." She said, tossing her rumpled nightclothes into the charmed hamper on the other side of the wardrobe. She didn't seem to notice his stare at all, simply moving about her usual routine. "They should have brought your toiletries over as well." She nodded to the chair which now held his heavier outdoor robes and his warmer, winter boots. She frowned at the wardrobe for a moment. "I'll see what I can about some space of your own. Better hurry up though. Don't want to miss breakfast."

"Thanks. Right." Harry scurried for the loo, only to be caught with one hand. He froze, staring up at her, a mixture of uncertainly and apprehension. He was entirely speechless when she simply leaned down and kissed him warmly, tasting of minted toothpaste. He blinked up at her in shock as she released him with a little shove towards the en suite. He opened his mouth and then shut it, unable to think of anything to say and knowing that his face was swiftly turning just as red as his Gryffindor tie.

He could have sworn he heard her musical laughter as the door slid shut behind him. He didn't care. He was grinning from ear to ear and thinking just how lucky he was for once in his life.

* * *

><p>They walked through the Hufflepuff common room together and Megan was partially accosted by some of the younger badgers with help in knotting ties, lacing complicated shoes and fancy braids. "Presentations in class today," Megan explained, at Harry's puzzled look. "Professor Sprout changed the curriculum last year, to give everyone a unique learning experience." She tapped the moving head in front of her and the firstie obediently held still, a strip of parchment clutched in her hands, her lips moving in a frantic recitation.<p>

Megan deftly braided the golden strands into a neat French braid and then sent the younger 'Puff off with a one-armed hug and a whisper of good luck. The others smiled at Harry, thanked Megan and quickly assembled themselves into neat rows to be escorted to breakfast. It was only then that Harry realized that not one of them had questioned his presence there or with Megan and they were all running about far more orderly than anything he'd ever seen in Gryffindor.

"Morning, Harry." Susan and Hannah passed by, arm in arm, talking about a project in the greenhouses for that afternoon. They smiled at Harry, both of them in tandem and headed for the exit door.

"Morning," Harry managed to say as they passed by. He was startled to see them there, before he realized that they did belong there and that it was Hannah's prefect room they were sharing after all. It was hard to think of it as a shared room, now that it was a private room, thanks to the new walls. He'd discovered a second wardrobe for his own use, after emerging from the shower.

Now, he reminded himself to focus and pulled himself back to the present. The younger students were still clamoring around and Harry was wondering if Megan was the one to be looking after them all the time. The sound of loud voices caught his ear and he looked up in time to see the older students flooding out from the dorms. There were a few cheerful greetings called out to Megan and a few backslaps for him, with exclamations of "you lucky dog, you!"

"Easy," Megan said, half-heartedly. Her warning look said more than her verbal caution and she used her height to her own advantage, slipping an arm around Harry's shoulders and guiding him out towards the entrance. They all lined up in double file and scrambled out, one after the other, a few of the older boys holding the door open for the girls, while the prefects took a morning roll call and saw that everyone was ready to leave for breakfast. Susan and Hannah worked together to make sure they were all ready, before the procession to the Great Hall began.

"Very organized," Harry muttered, not sure if he should shrug off the warm arm around him just yet or if he could enjoy it at least halfway to the Great Hall. It was surprising to see the usually quiet, but polite Hufflepuffs being so well-organized and cheerful for that hour of the morning. It made him wince, thinking to the madhouse that Gryffindor could be during the frenzied morning rush to get dressed and down to breakfast, before class started.

"Gryffindor isn't like that?" Megan looked down at him in surprise. "Well, I suppose they aren't, now that I think of it and that would actually explain so much. We 'Puffs look out for each other and we tend to stick together." She tugged him a bit off balance, bracing his weight when he had to stumble quickly to keep up. "So we can lean on each other and learn at the same time. Professor Sprout doesn't baby us by any means, Merlin no, but we are expected to show some degree of maturity."

Harry's brows knitted together in an expression of puzzlement. What he knew of Hufflepuffs in general was largely limited to his own observations and the less-than-flattering gossip that floated around Hogwarts in regards to them. They were known for being good finders—whatever that meant—prone to cry at the drop of a knut, and usually good friends, if you were nice enough. Hufflepuffs reminded him of Cedric and Cedric reminded him of the graveyard, the graveyard reeked of death and Death was something that Harry had been trying to pretend did not quite terrify him as much as it should.

He shivered, unwilling to be sucked down that particular twist of memory lane and felt a gentle squeeze 'round his shoulder, the warmth pulling him back to the present. He looked up to see Megan looking down at him in concern, a tiny furrow of worry on her ivory forehead.

"Harry?"

"M'fine." He stopped walking and hugged her properly, a tight, squeezy hug that held the words he couldn't quite find yet, with all the desperation that circled 'round his head about the dark things his life seemed destined for. He heard her sigh and then both of her arms were around him and the chatter of the other Hufflepuffs faded as they all continued on and they remained behind, together.

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><p>Harry tried not to think too much during his classes. He kept up the general politeness that he'd managed to stockpile, so that he could safely interact with Ron and Hermione, without somehow giving himself away. He was glad that they were somewhat still preoccupied with each other to notice that he wasn't quite up to being his usual self.<p>

Classes seemed tedious and stressful and Harry forced himself to take notes for later. He kept himself together by thinking of the possible lunchtime picnic and wondering how and when Megan would come to retrieve him. He wondered if she would continue to take an active interest in his schoolwork—as she had offered to help him with his homework last night and proven to be an excellent student and an equally good teacher. He'd found himself hoping that perhaps he could bring up a few of his A's into E's and perhaps even an Outstanding in something.

She made him want to try harder, to be someone she could be proud of, it just felt right.

Instinct, maybe or something else. He didn't quite care. It was still new and tentative, but the definite promise of forever was linked between them, a bond formed that he was sure wouldn't break from some trivial thing.

Harry almost smiled.

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><p>In the end, Megan sent a note with one of the 'Puff's in Harry's year and he found himself reading her neat, curly script instructing him to meet her down by the lake and 'around the corner' whatever that meant. He made his way outdoors and followed the usual trail down to the lake, understanding the postscript when he realized there seemed to be a hill there that hadn't been there some time before.<p>

An illusion, he mused, when he walked around it and felt the familiar magical tingle. The moment he was around the lump of damp green grass, he spotted a little tent pitched beside the lake, with the flaps all tied up, so it resembled a pavilion of sorts. At the four cornerposts, there were flickering braziers of bronze, holding heaping mounds of coal to feed the hungry flames, warmth fanning out from them as the breeze wafted through.

There were several red and white checkered tablecloths spread out on the ground and little wooden tables set in the midst of each of them, low to the ground, but large enough to hold a rather impressive picnic spread. Harry stopped and stared for a moment—who wouldn't have—and then made his way on over, when he realized the 'Puff's where helping to bring platters of food from one end of the little tent to the other.

He recognized a few of the older students from the common room that morning and he had yet to lay eyes on Megan. He approached the tent somewhat cautiously. He'd never had anything against the 'Puffs, not really, but it didn't hurt to be cautious and he did not want to somehow start off on the wrong foot with them. He hung around the farthest corner of the tent, before he laughed at himself.

_So much for Gryffindor courage-!_ He thought mockingly. How hard could it be to simply step in and say that he was invited and then find Megan?

"Harry Potter?" A voice said clearly.

Harry flinched, turning in time to see a vaguely familiar face and a prefect's badge affixed to the Hufflepuff robes. A very nice face stared back at him, a young man with soft grey eyes and sandy-colored hair, with rather bushy eyebrows. He was waiting for an answer and cocked his head to the side when Harry did not reply at once.

"Were you invited?" He looked over Harry's shoulder as if to check for Hermione and Ron, then shrugged. "Never mind it, come on in. You wouldn't be here if you weren't." He gave Harry a moment, then smiled in understanding and reached back, pulling Harry into the tent with them. "It's warmer in here," he said. "And I'm sure you'll find-" he paused, frowning at Harry for a moment, then leaned close and took a careful sniff.

Harry leaned back at once, pulling his arm free of the gentle grip. "I'm-" he started to say.

"Megan's." The boy said, flatly. He looked Harry over, appraisingly, then stuck out a hand. "Nico Burmese." A flicker of amusement played over his even features. "Werecat. I take it you're Megan's Submissive? I didn't know she had it in her. Always so quiet and calm and put together." He gave a low whistle. "And yet she's the first of us to find her Intended."

A rush of warmth flooded over him and Harry cursed the inclination to blush so easily. Then the rational part of his mind translated the other half of Nico's casual introduction. "Werecat?" He blurted out, before he could help himself.

Nico smirked. "Runs in the family." He held up his hands, palms facing outward. "I won't touch you or try to court you, seeing as you're claimed and all that. You need not worry. Besides, I already have my eye on someone." He turned back, scanning the familiar faces in the crowd of students. "Your Alpha is over there," he pointed to one of the far corners of the tent. "Tell her I said hello and—well done." He winked.

Harry nodded. "I'll do that." He then carefully made his way through the clusters of students and arranged picnic blankets. He saw that Megan had been right and that several of the older students had invited each other, it seemed and some of the firsties, who seemed absolutely thrilled at the opportunity to have a picnic outdoors with their fellow house mates. Moving easily around the little checkered sections, he found himself standing behind Megan, who was sharing a blanket with two other 'Puffs.

She was telling a story about something that had happened in the greenhouses earlier that month and her audience, a young man and a young woman, listened in rapt attention. Megan reached upwards and back with one hand outstretched to Harry, without a single break in her narrative. When Harry took her hand, she tugged him down to sit beside her gifted him with the usual one-armed hug.

He settled down, feeling more at ease, though vaguely apprehensive of the two strangers across from them. There were platters of neat sandwiches and cheese cubes and fruit on the low table before him and at Megan's urging, he began to help himself. The others had already filled their plates, but had yet to start eating. Megan finished her tale several minutes later and her audience seemed content with it.

"Harry, love, I'm glad you made it." She smiled at him and added another handful of winter grapes to his plate. "I was hoping the directions were specific enough. You didn't have any trouble, did you?"

"No. No trouble." Harry balanced the plate carefully on his knees. "I found the hill." Her friends laughed at that and Harry found himself chuckling along with them. The hill had been rather difficult to miss.

"These are my friends, Amelia and Leonard Vreck." She nodded towards the pair. "They are brother and sister, without a year between them, but they are not twins." Her lips twitched. "Anything else beyond that, they would have to share with you. Say hi, you two. This is Harry. My Harry. I told you about him earlier, remember?"

The possessive use of 'my Harry' was not wasted on Harry at all. He felt a flutter of warmth pool in his stomach at that. Megan liked him. Megan wanted him. Megan was more than happy to proclaim that he was hers in public. It made something inside of him stretch and dance for joy. He was wanted! What an amazingly foreign feeling. What a welcome and joyous—Harry gripped his plate a little tighter than necessary and found himself leaning heavily against Megan's side as a sudden slew of thoughts raced through his head.

Old memories. New memories. Things he hadn't yet reconciled within himself.

He felt her hand on his head, feathering across his forehead and then scrubbing gently through his hair, as she seemed to have taken a liking to doing. She didn't question or push him, she was simply there, strong, unwavering and silent—even when a single, fat tear trickled down his cheek, courtesy of the first time he could ever recall being invited out of genuine care on behalf of someone who wanted him as Just Harry.

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><p><strong>AN: Here we go! I figured I might as well get another chapter for this one done, after the lovely reviews last time. I hope you enjoyed the Megan and Harry fluff. I think they will make a good pair. The rest of the picnic will be in the next chapter and hopefully some of Daphne as well. Thanks for reading!**

**-Scion**


	18. Amelia and Leonard

**See first chapter for disclaimers/warnings/summaries. ****_  
><em>**

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><p><em>RECAP:Harry readjusts to student life and finds himself fascinated with Daphne Greengrass, only to learn from Megan that the Slytherin girl is a dragel Beta. There are even other dragels at Hogwarts and perhaps other creatures as well. Harry joins Megan on a special picnic sponsored by Professor Sprout as a reward for her students' hard work. Here, Harry meets a few of Megan's friends and some fellow 'Puffs. <em>

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><p>Silent tears.<p>

Harry had never quite understood that point behind that, but in the same vein, he'd never quite learned to cry with noise—not the way normal people did. No, he was only used to biting his lips and sucking in awful, hitching breaths as icy tears streaked rivulets down his face and made him hurt in his very soul. He'd learned so long ago that crying brought him nothing but pain.

Green eyes winked shut and Harry willed himself not to cry.

Of all the times and places!

Megan would surely be embarrassed, but then again, she was a girl and didn't most girls cry at the drop of a hat and oh—oh, that was soft and warm and it smelled like lavender and Harry found himself crying into Megan's chest, her arms wrapped securely around them, her shoulder-length hair forming a curtain of sorts, allowing the slightest bit of privacy for just the two of them.

He felt a tingle of magic leap from her and he didn't bother to puzzle through whatever it was. A privacy spell, maybe? He hoped so, but it didn't matter as much as he thought it would. He was more focused on her warmth and the strength of such slender arms wrapped so tightly around him. It had been so long since he'd really let the tears come—not to collect and catalogue his hurts, but to purge them from his tortured mind. He was vaguely aware of Megan's soft voice whispering in his ear, words in a delicate language he couldn't quite process, but still soothing and comforting on an instinctive level that simply made the tears come harder.

By the time he'd subsided, she was rubbing his back and his arms, his face tucked in the crook of her neck and her cheek resting atop his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry," she chanted softly. "It's alright, love. It's alright." She didn't question or push him to speak about what had triggered the emotional outpouring, she simply accepted it—and him—without question.

Sniffling, he tried to pull away, feeling as if he'd just cried a river and all his energy had gone with it. He didn't think he could explain this, at least not in their current company, without embarrassing himself to death. His limbs felt heavy and his head felt light, but the ache in his chest had eased just the faintest of a hint. He swallowed great big gulps of air and licked his lips, tasting the salt of his tears on them.

A soft kerchief was pressed into his hand and said hand was guided to his nose. "Blow." Megan said, firmly. "And then some water, alright?" She folded the kerchief over and let him tend to his own nose, as she patted his back and allowed him to sit up. When he was more recovered, she coaxed him to drink a few sips of water from a mug. He tried to move away, feeling his face flaming as he recognized he'd just had a mini-breakdown of sorts, but Megan refused to let him move away from her, keeping him by her side, a protective arm draped around him.

When he did chance to look at her, feeling quite miserable for ruining what was supposed to be an enjoyable picnic, the understanding in her soft grey eyes nearly undid him all over again. He felt his breath catch in his throat. There was no judgment in her gaze, only warmth, care and something that had to be love. She kissed his forehead, smoothing his wayward hair back. "We all have our days," she said, softly. "And you don't have to tell me about it, if you don't want to."

Hearing those words soothed the rawness inside of him and Harry was grateful. He didn't really want to, especially since he didn't really know what had prompted that outburst in the first place. But in a few more minutes, he was back to himself—or at least fairly close to it—and he didn't mind when Megan waved Amelia and Leonard back over to join them. He hadn't even noticed when the siblings had left, but he couldn't meet their eyes just yet.

Neither Hufflepuff drew any attention to him though and instead, they simply started up a conversation about another greenhouse project and this time, Harry perked up. He'd heard a lot of the 'Puff's talking about it and now that he was listening, it sounded like a rather fun project. "How come Professor Sprout never did that for us?" He asked, shrinking back into Megan's arm when twin stares of surprise fixed on him. He found himself wondering if it had been a trick of the light that made the twins' dark brown eyes suddenly seem a bit more burgundy than brown. "I mean, I didn't—it sounds like fun." He finished, awkwardly.

Amelia gave a slow smile that blossomed into a full grin. "It is fun!" She exclaimed and gave her brother a hearty shove with one elbow. "See Leonard, I told you so." She turned back to Harry. "It's an extra credit project, really and it's usually reserved for students who are interested in being Potion Makers, Healers or Herbologists. We spend more time with the plants and get to understand them on a more natural level. You have to have at least a consistent E in herbology or at least three O's." She shrugged. "It means the plants like you enough that the project won't stress you out."

"And then you pick a plant?" Harry guessed.

"Not quite," Leonard picked up where his sister had left off. "The plants pick you."

Harry blinked, sure the confusion he was feeling was more than visible on his face. "They—pick me?" He repeated.

Megan chuckled. "Plants have feelings too, Harry." She said, a teasing lilt to her voice. "What we actually have to do, is take good care of the plant we're assigned—sorry, the one that chose us—until we graduate from Hogwarts."

"That's a long time, isn't it?" Harry frowned. "What happens then?"

"Then, we keep it." Amelia affected a shrug. "You have to start your garden collection somewhere and having a plant that adores you and you understand, well, it's very helpful. You can start your own greenhouse with all the right energies."

"It also means you're more attuned to what's necessary to keep them happy and healthy, so by default, you're better all-around for it." Leonard explained. "As a Potions Master, you're likely to have to know when and how to harvest your own ingredients, even if you can just purchase the stock off of Borgin and Burkes, it's better if you know how to manage some of it on your own. It can affect some of the potions in effectiveness and stability when brewing." He helped himself to a sandwich and began to munch contemplatively.

"It's also good practice," Amelia said. She took the other half of Leonard's sandwich and for a moment, the twins mirrored each other as they ate. "You're used to caring for someone and your familiar, so it is easier for you to balance responsibilities and such." Her dark eyes narrowed, faintly. "Were you thinking you might try?"

Harry gulped. "Er, perhaps not?"

Now Leonard elbowed his twin. "It's fine if you want to," he said, calmly. "You'd just have to ask Professor Sprout yourself." He winked. "And even if your grades aren't up to snuff, s'long as you're serious about it. She'll consider it. You might have to write a few essays and such in addition to caring for it, but it'll only help your case."

Harry nodded. "What kind of plants to you have?" He looked to all of them.

"Shrivelfig." Megan said, simply. "I found that pruning them was quite relaxing and so when I went to choose, one of them chose me."

Emerald eyes blinked in confusion. "I thought Shrivelfig trees weren't sentient?" He was almost certain of it. He remembered pruning them with the others in second year and he wasn't entirely sure how a plant could choose its caretaker.

"They aren't." Megan offered him a bowl of fruit. "But sometimes when you work with a plant very closely and for a long time, your magic reacts to the magic in the plant. It may not be a naturally sentient plant, but it does not mean that it does not have feelings and such." She offered a smile. "It's a good thing, it means you're connected to it and that makes caring for it that much easier."

"Oh." Harry mused. "That makes sense." He looked at the twins. "What about you?"

The twins began to snicker and nudge each other. Megan rolled her eyes. "Don't pay attention to them," she said, dryly. "It's something of a running joke, the plants that they have."

"And those are…?" Harry waited.

"Leonard has a Venomous Tentacula and Amelia has a Devil's Snare." Megan said, matter-of-factly. "Do not ask me how that happened."

Harry stared. His mouth opened and closed for a moment as he mentally recalled everything he knew about the dangerous plants and juxtaposed it with the information that the ones working with them were Hufflepuffs. "A-are you—they—what?" He squeaked out. He saw plants in the greenhouses every day and knew there were some that were best avoided. He was nowhere near as good with plants as Neville, but he thought he at least knew the basics. He also thought he had known everything about the four houses—well, enough of them, anyway.

Amelia smirked. Leonard wiggled his eyebrows knowingly.

For a moment, they were the perfect picture of mischief and Harry nearly choked on his sandwich. He expected that kind of look from a Slytherin—or the Weasley twins—and most definitely not from a Hufflepuff. As if sensing what he thought, Amelia flipped her long braid of hair over one shoulder and perked a brow.

"What?"

"Isn't it dangerous?" He had to ask. He could remember his own run-in with Devil's Snare on that first hair-raising year. He'd been lucky to have Hermione there and lucky that he could trust her.

"They don't hurt us." Leonard smoothed a hand through his curly hair. "and if we introduce you, they won't hurt you either—at least, in theory." He frowned. "We haven't really tried to introduce nice people to them."

"You are not introducing Harry to your plants!" Megan protested. Her grip around her Submissive's shoulders tightened fractionally. She was sure that he'd faced worse before—Voldemort when he was a baby and all that, but still! She would not send him waltzing off into danger without having her say. "I've seen the way they react when the-"

"Aww, they're just hungry, Jones." Leonard chuckled. But he was smiling and it was enough to say that he would do as she asked, for the time being. "As long as you feed 'em, they're nice enough." He shared another chuckle with his twin. "What's funny is that they're actually very dangerous plants, as I'm sure you know," he told Harry. "And they're actually very friendly with Amelia and me, so if a professor needs ingredients—you know, like Professor Snape or something, they ask us to collect them."

"Like leaves from his Venomous Tentacula or a sprig of my Devil's Snare." Amelia explained. "Megan, you know we wouldn't let anything happen to him."

The older girl merely scowled.

"She's right. You'd have our heads and then you'd carve our hearts out with a dull knife."

"Why a dull knife?" Harry twisted around, somewhat fascinated to see the scowl on Megan's face. He hadn't known she could make an expression quite like that.

"Because it hurts more." Megan said, matter-of-factly. "You will not take him on your own. I will be there."

"Aww, don't you trust us?"

"On the contrary, it's because I trust you."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Never mind her, Harry. I swear you are perfectly safe with us. Remember that. Now, would you like to see them? You're more than welcome to join us. We usually look after them in the morning, before breakfast. It's a bit messy on Fridays, because we have to add the dragon dung and such, but every other morning is fine. You should come sometime."

Harry found himself smiling. It did sound like fun with a nice dose of hard work thrown in. He was fairly sure that it would be worth at least one visit and if he could spend the time with or near Megan, then that was alright with him. He looked to her, hoping that whatever she was unhappy about wouldn't be enough to keep her from agreeing. He certainly didn't have to listen to her, but he would if he knew it made her happy. "Could I join you one morning, if that's alright-?" It sounded like a purely Hufflepuff project and while he surely didn't mind inter-house projects and cooperation, he did not want to be in the way of any of them.

"May I." Megan corrected, absently. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. Professor Sprout doesn't mind if we take a few guests along, so as long as you don't excite or upset the plants." Megan sighed. "As long as you do exactly what you're told, you may join us."

Harry beamed.

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><p><strong>AN: Here we go! This didn't come out as long as I wanted it, so sorry for the short chapter, but I think I'll just have to skip a bit of time here and move things along a bit. No Daphne in this chapter, I couldn't quite work her in. Maybe in the next one? We'll see. I really love writing the Hufflepuff side of things, so I'm really glad everyone is enjoying it. :D Thanks for the lovely reviews! I really do appreciate them. Welcome to the new readers and the lurkers and thanks for reading!**

**-Scion**


	19. Making Nice

**See first chapter for disclaimers/warnings/summaries. ****_  
><em>**

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><p><em>RECAP:Harry readjusts to student life and finds himself fascinated with Daphne Greengrass, only to learn from Megan that the Slytherin girl is a dragel Beta. There are even other dragels at Hogwarts and perhaps other creatures as well. Harry joins Megan on a special picnic sponsored by Professor Sprout as a reward for her students' hard work. Here, Harry meets a few of Megan's friends, the twins Amelia and Leonard, and some fellow 'Puffs when he joins them on a picnic outside by the Lake. <em>

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><p>Megan stood patiently by the bedroom door as the whirlwind known as Harry wriggled his feet into his shoes while threading his arms awkwardly through his robe, his bookbag on the floor and his glasses half-perched on the end of his nose. Her lips twitched in mild amusement and she cleared her throat, softly, to gain his attention. "Come," she beckoned, when he looked up.<p>

Harry shuffled over quickly, scowling down at his tie as he tried to heft his bookbag up onto his rumpled shoulder. Normally, he wasn't really late—just close to it—but today, he'd slept in and Megan had let him, waking him with enough time to get ready—until he'd fallen asleep in the shower. She'd turned the taps cold then, to wake him up, then kissed him in apology, ignoring his spluttering when she told him what time it was.

That had set him in motion and now, here he was. He didn't know how he always managed to mix this up, as he would think after all of these years, he would have gotten better at tying his tie, shoving his feet into the shoes and gathering all of his things together, but today felt off-kilter and he didn't want to puzzle through it.

He stood still and straightened his robe as Megan cast a charm to tie his shoelaces and tidy his bookbag. He was getting better at letting her do it, the absence of his magic didn't sit very well with him and so far, no one seemed to have any explanation as to why it was still there. Megan was more than happy to look out for him, but it meant that he couldn't actively participate in the classes, beyond copying the wand movements and he was sure that others had noticed by now—it was too obvious not to.

He had visited Madam Pomfrey on Dumbledore's request once more, but it hadn't produced anything and while it had originally been a bit freeing to walk about, without his magic, he was now starkly aware of just what a bad thing it was. His knee-jerk reaction to anyone having a wand on him was an immediate offensive maneuver, but Megan, he would tolerate. She'd been helping him without complaint or request and performing the charm that was supposed to show when his magic was returning. He could see her worry deepening as the levels remained the same each night.

"Tie?" He double-checked, readjusting his shoulder-strap. He grinned, widely when soft grey eyes sparkled faintly.

Megan tapped him gently atop the head with her wand. "It's perfect," she said.

Harry grinned up at her, unable to keep the smile from surfacing. It was nice to hear compliments like that, even if he wasn't entirely sure that he deserved them. Something in his face made her eyes darken a few shades of grey and his mouth opened in protest when she tipped his chin up. Any protest he would have had was swallowed by the hot, wet kiss that followed.

When Megan pulled away, Harry found one of his hands was fisted in the front of her robe, unwilling to let her go just yet. He blinked and stared, his mouth working to make sounds—words—anything! And then she dropped her bookbag by her feet and drew him directly into her arms, angling her head downward, before slanting her lips over his once more.

Harry sighed into soft press of lips and leaned forward, tugging on her robe to communicate that he did want her even closer. A few minutes passed, before he felt her heart stuttering a rapid beat when she pressed his face to her chest, tucking her chin atop his head. They stood, panting softly, her fingers ruffling through his formerly neatly brushed hair, his hand still fisted in her robe, his ears a bright red.

Another minute or two passed, before Megan slowly unwound her arms from around him. She rubbed up and down his arms, quickly, briskly, then pulled away, giving his shoulders a squeeze as she kissed his forehead. "Now we're both late," she teased. "Come on."

Still blushing, Harry switched his grip from her robe to one of her free hands. He ducked his head, grinning like mad when he felt her fingers twine through his. They took the stairs to the common room, two at a time and ran all the way to the Great Hall.

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><p>Harry wasn't really late. He did have to eat in a hurry and just like the premonition from earlier, it seemed like his day was destined to go off-kilter. When he was preparing to leave DADA class, he somehow found himself tucked up against Theodore Nott and hidden from view as the classroom quickly emptied. He was about to protest when the Slytherin gave him a look. "Jones' is coming for you," he said, stiffly. "Wait here."<p>

It was then that Harry he realized that they weren't the only ones left in the DADA classroom. The names that Terius had called out on the first day—all of them were there, Ryan Henry and Jennifer Dawn from Gyffindor as well as the Patil twins. Harry didn't even see when Padma had slipped into the room, but it seemed like something important was about to happen. The respective Slytherins of dragel-heritage were also present, Blaise, Theo, Millicent, Draco and Daphne. They all looked at him curiously as the door slid open and Megan slipped inside.

She smiled, gently, the moment her grey eyes landed on Harry. She crossed the room at once to stand beside him, giving a slight nod of thanks to a somewhat broody Theodore Nott, before she pulled him into a hug. "I asked Theo to stop you, hope you don't mind," she whispered in his hear. Her magic stretched out to him, checking and reassuring that he was alright. "He was the only one I could catch before lunch ended," she nuzzled his cheek and straightened up.

A line of sorts had begun to form all the way up to the front of the DADA professor's desk.

When Teacher Terius' sea-blue-grey eyes met all of their gazes in turn, the entire group made a two-fingered salute and cross over their hearts, before offering a formal bow from the waist up. Megan stood beside Harry, motioning for him to copy her movements. He managed to do so—somewhat awkwardly—and was rewarded with another smile for his efforts.

Terius gave a curt nod in return as he turned his attention to the chalkboard over his shoulder. He waved his hand and it was instantly cleaned. "How are you all faring today?" He asked. The question was simply phrased and innocent enough.

Harry wasn't prepared for any of the answers.

"I have a stomachache."

"There's something wrong with my back and I didn't sleep at all last night."

"I want a hug."

"How do I know if there's someone I'm interested in?"

"Do we have to fall for the same person?"

"What if we're not interested in someone?"

"Do you have any meat?"

The headache was Malfoy—Harry could pick out his specific whine virtually anywhere—and the rest were a bit of a quick jumble. Millicent wanted meat, Ryan had back problems and Jennifer wanted a hug. Megan hadn't made any request, but rather, she drew Harry close to her side, keeping one arm over his deceptively slender shoulders.

"Would you object to a potion first, Mr. Henry?" Terius suggested. "You are still more used to wizard means and if you are receptive to them, I do not wish to interfere just yet with Dragel methods. It would cause unnecessary stress and we both know you could do without that."

The Gryffindor shrugged. "I guess a potion's fine then. I'm used to them."

"Have you used to them?" Terius wanted to know. "If you have used them and they have not worked, then I will fix this right now."

Ryan shrugged. "Used enough. I mean, sometimes they work and sometimes they don't and sometimes, I don't like them." He shuddered, visibly.

"They lock you in dreams you want to escape from." Terius corrected. His gaze softened. "I shall ask Severus for something and you will find it on your pillow tonight. Try it and let me know tomorrow. If that does not work, I'll carve a pendant for you this weekend and we shall see what can be done of it."

"Thank you, Teacher." Ryan shot the man a grateful look as he stretched, gingerly. "What about my-?" He turned his neck slightly and winced at the movement the taut muscles prevented.

"Lean on the desk to brace yourself and let me move your arms." Terius instructed. He waited while the boy did as he was asked, then took the unresisting limbs and twisted and pulled them together. "Breathe in," he warned. There was a sharp, quick yank and an audible crack in the room.

"Ow!" Ryan yelped, twisting in the expert grip.

"And breathe out." Terius said, smoothly. He released the arms and rubbed them briskly, before allowing them to fall back to the boy's side. He ran a steady hand up and down the length of the boy's spine, pausing to press in two places. Ryan winced for both moments and then brightened when he realized what had happened. He felt significantly better than before. "Better?"

"Much." Ryan rotated his shoulders and leaned back a bit. "Thank you!" He leaned forward into the hand that ruffled his hair, a light smile registering on his face.

"You're quite welcome. Pay a little more attention the next time you decide to lend a hand to the Quidditch team. Don't let them take advantage of you and just because you have the strength, does not mean you need to use it, hmm?"

"Yes, Teacher." Ryan grinned and repeated the salute from earlier and scampered from the classroom. He ducked out into the hall and vanished, off to his next class.

"Meat?" Millicent asked, hopefully. Her fangs peeked over the corners of her plump lips and she stood next in line, waiting, expectantly. There was something different in the way she carried herself for a moment, compared to the other young dragels present.

Harry found himself licking his lips at the thought of meat, his gums aching, a warning that his fangs might make their own appearance as well. He could remember every tasty morsel from Megan that he'd traded chocolate frogs for.

Megan chuckled softly in his ear as if following the same train of thought. "I am sure that there will be enough left over. Teacher Terius will share."

Harry stiffened at that and then worried his lower lip between his teeth. He seriously doubted that. The DADA professor really seemed to hate him and as far as he could tell, he hadn't done anything, beyond exist. He shrank back into Megan's side as the line inched up. He wondered why she'd really come and what was so important about sharing such trivial things with the older dragel. Perhaps it was some other odd custom he'd missed before and Harry started faintly when Megan rubbed one arm reassuringly.

A sizeable stash of jerky was produced from the deep desk drawers and Millicent happily helped himself when Teacher Terius gave him leave to do so. "Eat it slowly and chew carefully." Terius instructed. "Make sure you eat dinner in your room tonight and order what you want from the assigned house elves. I cannot hunt for some time, so you will all have to make do with this until I can secure permission for any other alternatives."

"Mmmhmm." Millicent mumbled. She tore into strips with a new light in her eyes, chewing quickly and seeming more dragel than human in those few moments. It didn't seem as if she'd heard anything the professor had said the moment she'd taken the first bite.

"Miss Dawn?" Terius opened his arms and allowed the young woman to literally throw herself forward into his ready embrace. He held her tight and murmured several soothing endearments in her ear, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head, his magic visibly wrapping around her in a protective haze.

It seemed to do the trick, because she straightened a moment later and teary-eyed, thanked him.

He offered her a clean kerchief and suggested that she eat more fruit, after he took a careful look at her eyes and cast a few diagnostic charms. "It will balance your energies for now. You have to remember your element is very delicate, once you have it aligned, you should do your best not to upset it. Fire is not something that is easily mastered."

"I know, Teacher." She sighed. "It's just hard and I wish…I wish that I had my own…" She bit her lip and looked away. "Is it wrong of me to want something I can't have?"

"Depends on what you speak of."

"W-what if I don't want a Dragel mate?"

Terius gave her a long, good look. Then he shrugged. "There is the option to choose Solitary, but that is your own choice and it is only made after you have attempted to court and failed or if you find yourself to be too possessive of the one you've acquired."

She blinked. "That's it?"

"It is your choice." He repeated. "You need not take another Dragel as a mate, though it is best if you do. There will be certain things you will never experience because of it and to claim solitary with another, you must both be in agreement, or will not end well. Dragels crave the social, emotional, physical and magical aspect of a fully bonded Circle. There is something it provides that cannot be found otherwise."

"But it's not…bad, is it?" She fidgeted under his sharp-eyed gaze.

"That would depend on your definition, Miss Dawn. Your magic will bind itself and never fully reach its full potential. Your Dragel self will understand that you have cheated it in some way or another, because it craves the bonding and acceptance of others of its own kind. Any children that you may have run the risk of becoming squibs, the Dragel gene will be somewhat suppressed, unless you choose to carry the child, instead of your partners." He frowned. "As a dominant rank, you would survive it, but it would wear heavily on your magic and your physical self, if you choose to do so your partners would not be able to provide you with the necessary…things. It is entirely your prerogative, however. There are no taboos against it in our kind. You would, however, need to defend them a little more vigorously than usual and there will be different, family dynamics rather than those respective to a mateship circle." He paused. "I would be willing to speak to you of it later, if you feel you have any further questions."

"Thank you." She whispered. The girl then turned and fled the classroom without another backward look.

The next in line was a certain blond Slytherin.

"Terius." Draco's whine repeated itself and he rubbed his stomach with a pout. The childish expression made him appear younger than his sixteen years.

"That was for eating something out of turn." Terius scolded. "You know better than to eat something that isn't on your list. I didn't write it all down to torture you." The older man studied him for a moment and then sighed. "I can't give you a potion for the stomachache and you know it." He said, at last. "Come here." The blond readily did so, unbuttoning his robes as he approached and the buttons on his jumper. By the time he reached the desk, his smooth, white stomach was on view.

Harry started when the older man drew a shining, silver knife from the folds of his teaching robes and laid the flat of the blade on the unmarked stomach. Megan's arm tightened around his shoulders and one hand found its way down the collar of Harry's shirt and to the claim mark on the side of his neck. She traced the edge, faintly, sending soothing spikes of calmness through him. "It's alright, Harry, he's fine. Look!" Megan murmured. "Terius won't hurt him, they're bonded. He loves him." Harry didn't answer. He squeezed his eyes shut and didn't react when Megan pulled him into a full embrace, running a hand up and down his back.

Draco whimpered. Terius hummed soothingly. A thrum of magic rippled through the room.

"Better?" Terius prompted. He wiped the blade clean with a cloth from his desk and waved a hand that sent a wandless spell to right Draco's clothes to their original state. Relief showed plainly on Draco's face and he hugged the older man in thanks. Terius responded with a hug in return and a ruffle to those perfect strands. Draco didn't even protest. "Go check on Calida, have Severus write you a pass if you know you'll be late." Draco nodded and hurried off.

Harry was now painfully aware of the contrast between the figure before him and the man he'd seen in the hospital wing. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see more or to even consider that there might be more to the solemn dragel. The words he'd heard then, had stabbed at something inside of him—something he hadn't even known existed.

But Megan reached a hand towards Millicent who held out the sack of jerky in silent invitation. Megan selected a piece and waved it temptingly under Harry's nose. One emerald eye popped open and tracked the movement of the snack with surprising clarity. Megan inched it closer and without warning, Harry gave up his snuggle to take a large chomp out of the treat, his fangs closing with a quiet click.

Sparkling silvery-grey eyes shimmered with laughter, but Megan didn't comment straight away, instead waiting for the rest of Harry to catch up to what he'd done. A moment later, she saw it. A rich pink blush that dusted across the younger man's face and the green eyes grew wide. "Impressive." Megan praised. "You even managed to avoid my fingers." She nodded towards the bag in Millicent's lap as the Slytherin perched on the edge of Terius' desk and happily gorged herself on the shared treat. "Millicent will share. Go try some." Harry shook his head—having already retreated back to her arms.

"Megan," Terius said, quietly, turning to them next. He'd already settled the questions of the Patils and Zabini. "Your grievance?"

"It's a bit more complicated than the others, I'm afraid," Megan said, a touch apologetically. "Harry said he didn't have a mentor and that doesn't sit well with me."

Those piercing blue-grey eyes immediately drilled into Harry being held protectively in Megan's arms. "Did he now?" he asked, his voice surprisingly neutral. "That would explain quite a bit, if that is the truth."

"I will pretend that you are not questioning my integrity," Megan said, calmly. "And the truth of my Harry. I only thought that you might want to know, since it is expected that everyone has a mentor once they are of age."

"They do. It is impossible for it to be otherwise." Terius' eyes continued drill into Harry, who had now studiously fixed his emerald eyes on the sack of tempting jerky beside Blaise. "He is sure?"

Megan made a sound in her throat. "Harry has no reason to lie, least of all to me," she said, firmly. She lifted her head, standing tall.

Terius scowled. "I was not implying that he did, merely that it was impossible for a mentor not to have arrived." Megan perked a brow in silent question, even if she knew what was implied, Harry did not. Terius sighed. "There is possible, conceivable reason you could you offer me to excuse a mentor's absence—and their absence suggests foul play of an enormous magnitude. It is not a claim to make lightly."

"Indeed," Megan said, calmly. "Now, can you help us?"

Terius frowned. "That does not excuse his behavior, however. Did you need anything else?"

Megan's smile flickered a few shades shy of something that Harry couldn't describe. It was almost feral and she released him then, giving him a nudge towards the relaxing Millicent. "I wish to ask you to excuse, Harry."

The older man didn't answer straight away.

Harry found himself standing next to Millicent. The young witch winked and held out the bag. "Here you can hang onto it, if you want. I think you could use it a bit more than I could."

"Will you overlook it this once?" Megan coaxed. "Harry is mine and he honestly did not know."

Terius' head snapped up at once and he frowned looking between Harry and Megan. "You took him?"

Megan smirked in confirmation. "He bears my claim and I fully intend to make it official."

There was a muttered string of words in another language and Terius finally glared at the young Hufflepuff Alpha. "What did you have to do that for?" he demanded.

"I could not resist his heartcry." Megan said, calmly. "And he is lovely. So will you? You both know so little of each other, it is a pity that you've started off on the wrong foot."

There were a few more muttered phrases and finally, the older man shrugged. "Do not interfere." He said, abruptly, wheeling about to scowl at Harry. "My Alpha would have me apologize to you, Mr. Potter." He began. "On the grounds that my words may have been harsher than necessary that day in the medical wing. Your Alpha would have me forgive you as well on the basis that your mentor has not taught you how to avoid the social blunders you have already made. Exactly what do you have to say to that?"

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><p><strong>AN: Aha. So what do you suppose that Harry will say? Teehee. How'd you like that fluffy scene in the beginning? I wanted some Harry/Megan fluff in there. I was debating whether to include this Terius bit or not and decided to go ahead after all. We'll be meeting Daphne and a few other Beta Candidates in the next chapter, I think-don't quote me on that. Also, while this "straight" version of TBDH does share/use the same characters-the plot itself is different. Updating is not a matter of switching genders or names of Harry's Bonded. I've created over 80% of new material just for Harry/Megan alone and the rest of his Circle will also take some effort. I will not abandon this fic, but it takes time and effort just the rest of my stories. Thanks for reading!**

**-Scion**


	20. Apology Accepted

**See first chapter for disclaimers/warnings/summaries. ****_  
><em>**

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><p><em>RECAP: Harry meets a few of Megan's friends, the twins Amelia and Leonard, and some fellow 'Puffs when he joins them on a picnic outside by the Lake. Afterward, things change just a little bit until Megan arranges for Harry and Terius to clear the air between them. Terius is not happy and says as much, asking Harry whether he believes himself to be worthy of an apology. <em>

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><p>For one long moment, Harry seemed too small, too thin and too everything else. Then his hands fell to his sides, clenching the jerky tight as his green eyes flashed and flickered with emotion. "I would refuse, sir." He said, stiffly. "I don't want your apology."<p>

Millicent's eyes grew wide and she looked from the professor to Harry, then to Megan who merely folded her arms and waited, a knowing look on her face.

"Good. Because having said that, I will not apologize for having said the truth." The scowl melted away and Terius surveyed him critically for a moment. "You don't even appear to have reconciled yourself to the fact that you are a creature now. Not just a wizard, but a wizard-born creature. There are consequences for ignorance and there is no excuse for that."

Harry met his gaze, steadily and stood tall, unmoving. "We're all entitled to our own opinions," he said, at last. "I didn't know and it wasn't my fault."

A moment of silence passed.

Terius' blue-grey eyes seemed to darken to an almost black. The stare intensified up to the point that Harry had to look away.

A confused warble bubbled up out of his throat and the impulse to bare his throat became almost overwhelming. He fought it—on principle—before his eyes caught sight of Megan and he realized that she was hovering close by, ready to help him, if something was wrong. His mind sifted through the logic of it, understanding that there was nothing wrong—yet, and therefore no need for her interference.

He bit his lip and with a supreme effort of will, slowly tilted his head back, throat bared, body rigid.

It seemed to be a sign though. The moment the he did so, the tension in the room dropped to a tolerable level, the magical aura wrapped around Terius dimmed to soft, whispery magic that reached out to him, twining comfortingly around Harry. When Terius drew near, his considerable height allowed him to look down at Harry, his blue-grey eyes holding an indescribable look. Terius reached out with his hands, one on each side of Harry's head and held it steady, bending down to press his fangs to the bared neck. He didn't bite, but he did leave a mark, before he straightened and touched their foreheads together.

For a moment, Harry didn't dare breathe—then relief spread through him like fiendfyre. He slumped forward, surprised to find himself caught up in a warm hug—the proper kind that squeezed the breath from his lungs and made him feel as if the person hugging him, actually cared. He huffed, softly. The hollow emptiness he'd felt since the incident in the hospital wing, was suddenly half-filled. His head swirled with questions, answers and things he couldn't figure out, but somehow, he clung to the figure that still held him, drinking up every ounce of warmth and safety that fairly oozed from the older Dragel.

Terius chirred, an instinctive sound. "Very well done," he said, quietly. He gave Harry one last squeeze and gently pulled away, one hand ruffling Harry's messy hair before falling back to his side. He hesitated. "That was a formal apology—a very basic one and the dragel etiquette that went with it. It wasn't perfect, by any means, but I'm sure your Alpha can explain anything else you need to know. You apologized and I accepted. It seems your instincts are well and truly what they ought to be in spite of your mentor's absence. I apologize for my harshness from earlier but I did not know your circumstances and I should not have judged you as I did."

Instinctively, Harry reached up to wrap his arms around the man's neck and tugged him down to touch their foreheads together. It happened before he could react and when his arms fell slack to his side, there was a mixture of horror and confusion on his face. He opened his mouth to ask what had just happened when his stomach growled loudly.

"Thank you." Terius said simply, his eyes had lightened almost to their natural shade and they now flickered to Megan, who watched them with a small smile on her face. "I suggest you take your Harry to lunch, Megan. I believe he is hungry."

Harry turned at the mention of Megan, feeling his face warm as he realized that he had an audience of two—Megan and Millicent.

Megan smiled, her grey eyes glowing merrily as if she'd known the outcome beforehand. "So it would seem," she said, lightly. "Come on, Harry."

"Oh and Megan?" Terius cleared his throat.

She paused in the doorway, turning back to Terius, a question on her face. "Sir?"

"If you could find the time to join myself and my Circle for dinner this week—perhaps this weekend? I will let you know what I have found out by then and Severus should also be involved."

"Naturally," Megan agreed, nodding. "Thank you." She looped her arm through Harry's and they hurried down the hall, the classroom door swinging shut behind them.

"What about me?" Millicent pouted from her perch atop the desk, seemingly forgotten in the sudden drama that had played out before them. "I'm hungry too!"

* * *

><p>"What was that all about?" Harry demanded as Megan practically blew through the hallways, heading to the Great Hall for lunch. Harry brushed dust from his robes and winced a few times when Megan moved a little faster than he could hurry. "I mean, I heard his explanation, but what was all of that about? I didn't even do anything to him-!"<p>

"It's a great insult to someone of his position and age to refuse to acknowledge him." Megan explained, slowing her steps for Harry to keep up. From the glimmer in her grey eyes, it appeared that she'd been subconsciously pulling on her Air element. "You didn't do it on purpose, Harry-love—I kind of figured that out, when it seemed like you didn't really realize it, but you pretty much gave him the equivalent of-" Megan hesitated, then flashed a rude sign with one hand and shrugged. "You're lucky he accepted your apology—you're lucky he even apologized. I didn't expect that. He didn't have to."

Harry snorted. He didn't think that it had needed to be such a big deal.

"Harry," Megan said, firmly. "He didn't have to. I respect him for doing it all the more. He was returning the favor in good faith, after you apologized. There's a difference. There's quite a few things in Dragel society that I haven't had the chance to explain to you—and that fault is upon my head. You'll want to be aware of certain things, but the easiest thing for you to do right now, is to remember your instincts. They are there, just a bit buried. Once you give into it, you'll always know what you should do and you'll have the opportunity to decide if you want to do it or ignore it." She frowned in thought, " I suppose I ought to give you my Encyclopedia. It doesn't have much in it, but at least if you read it, you'll understand the basics and that might spare us a few obvious social faux pas. A mentor would have covered basic etiquette within the first few hours of your meeting each other. Respect is something you cannot withhold—not in dragel society."

"Respect should be earned." Harry shot back, still slightly ruffled.

"True. But, Harry, there does not always need to be a reason for it." Megan said, quietly. "Terius isn't even an Elder. You'll meet others, I'm sure, and they will be centuries over you. Respect is demanded for them. They've spent centuries earning it and they do not abuse it, but they do require some respect from us. It isn't always that black and white and sometimes, the reactions you'll find, such as Terius—he's more than earned the right to ignore you for your—mistake on the first day, according to Theodore Nott."

"But-! What? When did you-"

"Harry. He's in a mated circle and holds a reasonable position in Dragel society. He's also past his first century!"

Harry shut his mouth. That did skew the picture in his head, somewhat. Terius didn't look as if he were anywhere, but his early thirties, if not late twenties. There was no way a century could've passed through him.

"Don't think about it." Megan advised, catching the look of confusion on Harry's face. "I didn't believe him the first time he said it either, but you do not simply repeatedly tromp all over certain sets of rules. Theodore Nott, happens to be an Alpha that is also occasionally in the same classes you are, because of the Slytherin-Gryffindor pairing system. I asked him to keep an eye out for you and he mentioned that when Terius called his weekly meetings that you never acknowledged him, even when his gaze was deliberately fixed on you?"

Harry shook his head at that. He'd been trying too hard to be invisible.

"You didn't know, so it's not your fault. You were right about that. But all you had to do was accept—if you'd looked him in eye, you would've felt the pull. Theodore said he all but offered you a few times to join them. Since you didn't acknowledge him, he could not offer you anything else, because it would not be his place. Social ranks are different and important." Megan drew to a halt and reached into her robes to pull out a shrunken encyclopedia. "This will help. Follow the index and read every page that you can. We can talk about it whenever you're ready." She hesitated, as Harry's hands ghosted reverently over the ancient tome, finally able to touch it. "And Harry? I'd like to ask you to read away from prying eyes. It is no one's privilege but yours to read and no one else needs to know what's inside these covers. Please be careful with it."

Harry opened his mouth to protest and then shut it, realizing that the only person he would have shown, would have been Hermione and he didn't actually care whether she was allowed to read the book or not. He wanted to read it to find out more about himself and he didn't really feel compelled to show or share his true nature with the others. Hermione was too preoccupied lately to try to get her hands on it or at least to guess what he was reading, should she see it, but he could also sense that Megan was serious. He'd be serious too then. "I'll be careful." He took the book and hefted it in his hands. It should've been heavy, but it was light. A charm was probably cast on it. His brow wrinkled as he thought further along that strand of reasoning. "Doesn't it have charms on it?"

"It does and it is blood-figured, as we are bonded to each other, it will allow you to read, carry and summon it. However, my concern is more for the protections that are on it. They are very old and very…vicious. I do not say this lightly. They will not be kind to someone whose curiosity decides to investigate. Do not read it until after tonight."

Harry nodded and tucked the shrunken book carefully away, understanding all that was not said. "What's happening tonight?"

"Something that I didn't have time for earlier," Megan said, lightly. She reached for his hand and he gave it, their fingers twining together by habit.

They neared the Great Hall and Harry found his steps slowing again, wishing he didn't have to sit by himself at the Gryffindor table. He wanted to sit next to Megan take comfort in the warmth and magic that seemed to roll off her.

As sensing his wistful train of thought, Megan turned and backed him right up against the stone wall, with a quick look up and down the hallway, before bending her head to kiss him quite thoroughly. Harry willingly gave into the kiss, parting his lips to allow better access to the warmth of his mouth. When Megan finally drew back to allow him a breath, she finished with a light kiss to the center of Harry's forehead. He grinned up at her and leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose, feeling rather pleased with himself, when she smiled beautifully for him, before she glided off towards the door.

Harry stared longingly after her, feeling the happy bubble beginning to spring up inside him as Megan disappeared behind the doors to the Great Hall.

"That was lovely," Millicent said, sauntering up, a smirk on her face. "You've got it bad."

Harry didn't have the heart to snap at her. He was still replaying the moment in his head and enjoying every second of it.

* * *

><p>He was going to skip dinner.<p>

There was no way he was going to go through this again—mind-blowing kisses or not, Harry thought, grimly. He didn't understand what was going on with Ron, Ginny and Hermione. He'd thought there was something off there, but now, it seemed to have gone so far off that he couldn't keep track of it.

Ginny had wanted to sit next to him, but the twins had interrupted—both sets of them, the Patils and the Weasleys. Harry was too frustrated to try and figure out why Padma was spending so much time with her sister, when Hermione tried to quiz him again, and Ron interrupted.

Everything seemed to be oddly out of place.

He wished he knew when things had changed from wanting friends to wishing that he didn't have any. Every single subtle inquiry into his personal life had his hackles up and raised, fighting the ridiculous urge to hiss and spit, which really wouldn't have solved anything at all.

The Patil twins hadn't said a word to him—but he'd found himself sandwiched between them and his plate filled to nearly overflowing. He'd eaten sparingly, unable to make himself stomach the food. He'd also avoided the worried gaze that Megan sent him from across the room. There had been so many things happening today that all he wanted to was to just go to bed and deal with it later.

He slipped into Potions class a little earlier than usual, just wanting to get everything over with and knowing that if he were to skip a class—it couldn't be Snape's. The Potions Master would probably hunt him down and skin him.

Harry blinked.

He didn't know where that thought had come from.

"You're thinking too hard." Millicent said, cheerfully. She took up her usual position beside Harry and grinned. "Something the matter?"

Harry shook his head, carefully. He didn't know yet. The faint spark of his own magic flared briefly inside of him and he felt it as a burning sensation in his stomach and a tingly feeling in his teeth. _Madam Pomfrey…_ the idea trailed through his head. She hadn't been able to do anything the last time he'd seen her, but surely there was something that could be done?

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><p><strong>AN: And there we go for the Terius and Harry apology. This was trickier to work out than I originally expected. The next update will probably feature their bonding, I haven't decided yet-but since I'm juggling some new characters and dynamics, it's quite likely. Thanks for reading and your continued support on this version of TBDH!**

**-Scion**


	21. Forged Together

**See first chapter for disclaimers/warnings/summaries. ****_  
><em>**

* * *

><p><em>RECAP: Harry meets a few of Megan's friends, the twins Amelia and Leonard, and some fellow 'Puffs when he joins them on a picnic outside by the Lake. Afterward, things change just a little bit until Megan arranges for Harry and Terius to clear the air between them. Terius is not happy and says as much, asking Harry whether he believes himself to be worthy of an apology. <em>

* * *

><p>Harry waited for Megan when the last class let out. She usually came to find him, mostly because he didn't know her full schedule and therefore had no idea where her final class was, much less where to wait for her. He could go up to their shared room, but her earlier hint of something happening later that night, hung in his head and out of habit, he waited for her.<p>

The day had been long and he was seriously thinking of skipping dinner. He wondered if he could convince her to take their dinner together in their room. That would be a nice option and one he'd never taken before.

A warm breeze blew past him, ruffling his hair and teasing the with the scent of fresh air and a familiar herbal tint. Harry pushed away from the wall, looking around at once. He knew that scent—would always know it anywhere. The wind tugged gently at him and he found his feet beginning to move. Lifting his head, he sniffed a few times and began to follow the lightly scented trail.

The wind prompted him, gently pulling and blowing in various directions, coaxing him out of the castle and out into the fresh air. He came to a standstill, finding himself outside of the massive castle and squinting into the darkening light of the evening. He couldn't make out anything yet, with the shadows from the trees and rocks around him, but his dragel senses were open and alert.

A familiar presence manifested somewhere behind him and he turned in time to feel warm, mittened hands gently placed over his eyes. "Guess who?" Megan whispered into his ear.

Harry smiled, having already sensed her with enough time to keep from reacting negatively. He wondered, briefly, if she'd done it on purpose. It was a good detail though, because he didn't handle surprises too well—not when such things could mean a potentially life-and-death situation because of his famous, pure dumb luck.

"I don't know?" He teased.

"Oh?" Megan fairly purred. She kissed the edge of one pink ear and nipped it playfully with her fangs, just enough pressure to leave a mark, but not to break the skin. "Try again."

"I need a hint," he said, mischief clear in his voice.

"Are you in the habit of letting others bite your ears, then?" Megan teased back. She nibbled along his other ear, then pressed a series of light kisses down the side of his neck, before her hands dropped from his eyes. "It's me, silly."

Harry leaned back into her arms, automatically tilting his head to the side when he realized she was angling for his claim mark. "I'm surprised," he said, feigning shock. "I had no idea."

Megan laughed into his neck and licked the claim mark once and then twice, before sinking her fangs into his pale neck.

He squirmed for a moment, then sighed, relaxing as he realized that after the initial bite, it really didn't hurt. She'd also cast a disillusionment spell over them and there really wasn't anyone who could see them either. It did feel very nice to have her fangs in his neck. She held one hand out to him and he tugged off her mitten, before her wrist was presented to him. He smiled and at the unspoken prompt, returned the favor—his aching fangs slipping easily into her wrist.

The moment stretched on for a bit and then Megan pulled away, licking her lips. She kissed his cheek, a signal that he ought to finish up and though he whined in protest, his fangs slid free and she held still as he tended to the bite with quick kitten licks. He turned around to face her then, searching her face for any sign of what they were doing outside at this time of day—especially when dinner and curfew were so close together.

She took his hand and put it to her neck, helping him to feel a thick, jeweled chain, and then the pendant attached to it. Harry held it in his hand, as the gem, a rich deep purple, shimmered and glowed faintly, growing brighter at his touch. "What is it?" He turned it over in his hand, looking back at her. He'd never seen anything like it before.

"It's a Void stone," Megan said, softly. "I don't wear it all the time, only when I mean to use it. It's dragel magic. A gift from my mentor, actually. It's a special portal to a special place. I go there sometimes to meditate or—train, sort of." She closed her hands over his, wrapping his fingers around the gem. "You are mine," she said, softly. "Aren't you?"

Harry straightened up at once. "Yours."

"Shall we make it official then?"

Harry didn't have to think about that. He nodded. "Yes."

The stone flared a bright rich purple. For a moment, he couldn't breathe, the air had been sucked from his body and he was so light, he floated. Starry skies whirled by and everything blurred together, until it didn't. When he could breathe and think again, Harry found himself standing on a thick, grassy hill, with a giant tree at the top of it and a shimmering, luminescent lake visible off in the distance. There was a giant, glowing moon in the sky and it cast a lovely pale light over everything that was bathed in soft shadows.

"Welcome to my thinking place," Megan said, softly.

Harry released the gem, his arms falling to his sides as he continued to take in his new surroundings. When Megan drew him forward, he followed her and they continued on, together, all the way up the hill to where it was flat beneath the tree. They sat together on the grass and after a moment, he asked her about it and she told him.

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><p>They talked and talked and at one point, Megan shrugged out of her robe and spread it on the ground, so they could lie down and gaze up at the night sky. Harry mimicked the action, stripping off his robe and jumper—to use as a pillow—and they sprawled out on the ground, staring up into the haze, shimmering sky that sparkled with so many stars.<p>

At one point, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She snuggled back into his embrace without hesitation. They made up constellations and told each other silly stories about why they existed in the first place. It was fun, light and innocent.

Then Megan turned in his arms and gently pinned him to the ground, following up with a kiss that made her intent quite clear. Harry felt something shift and stir inside of him. He was grateful for the privacy that meant they definitely would not be interrupted and touched to think that she had chosen such a beautiful place for just the two of them.

She trailed more kisses up his neck and her warm hands pulled at his shirt, until her fingers could touch his skin. He tugged at her jumper, fumbling with the buttons and she banished it away—along with her blouse and his shirt. The next following minutes resulted in less clothes, more kisses and powerful magic beginning to swirl around the couple.

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><p>When the pleasurable haze had faded, Harry felt something shift and click, gently. Megan ran one hand through his hair, humming a tune that he couldn't quite place. Her other hand stroked up and down his back, claws out, pressing deliberately from his neck to his hip, with just the right amount of pressure to be soothing and not irritating.<p>

He sighed and closed his eyes. There was nothing to be said. It had been beautiful, wonderful and magical—he couldn't have asked for anything else. Yes, it had been a touch clumsy, awkward and nerve-wracking, but the friendship between them had smoothed out most of the nerves, Megan's willingness to laugh and her warmth in spirit and body had eased all the rest.

At several points, the only word that came to mind was _ethereal_, for Harry had finally seen just how deeply ingrained her Air element was. Influenced by their shared and amplified emotions, tempered by her magic and enhanced by the strange beauty of the private void, Megan was every single inch, a queen.

Her hair, dark against her pale skin, hovered around her shoulders, teased by the wind, her eyes alight with such brightness that Harry saw himself reflected in them as they'd joined in an intimate dance as old as time. She was beautiful and brilliant, but she made him feel as if he was the most precious thing in the world. He was the ultimate focus of her attention and with every kiss, rub and press of skin on skin, magic to magic—Harry knew it.

It felt as if she'd branded it into his skin, pushing the meaning beyond the surface until it was etched so deeply inside of him that he could not doubt the sincerity and truth of it. He felt the moment her skin morphed from smooth softness to slick scales, gasped in the moment when her fangs sank into his neck, the bonding magic singing through his body—entering from that one burning point where her lips laid claim to him in the most natural way for a dragel.

His turn came after hers.

She arched her neck, giving clear access as he returned the favor with fangs, teeth and lips. His hands shifted into their natural, curved claw-like state, digging harshly into her strong arms and shoulders. She purred contentedly as the ambient magic surrounding them, validated his possessive claim, sealing the matter with a note of finality that Harry wouldn't forget anytime soon.

This was permanent.

There were no take backs, no do overs, no hesitations to be had.

This was forever and a day.

Pride shone in her eyes as she perched on his lap, initiating another enthusiastic round of snogging when he withdrew from her neck, bloody lips half-parted, fangs visible in the moonlight. He tangled one clawed hand in her hair, the other looped around her waist as instincts took over for another enjoyable round.

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><p>"So I'm your—submissive now?" Harry had to ask.<p>

Megan smiled down at him and leaned forward enough to kiss his forehead. He looked absolutely adorable to her, with his wide green eyes and delicate fangs peeking over his bottom lip. "Indeed you are," she said, simply. She didn't push him, knowing that whatever he was sorting out in his head, he would share soon—it was easy to see from the expression on his face. She'd learned to watch for such subtle reactions, it was the mark of a good Alpha.

"What does that mean, exactly?" he asked, pressing closer to her.

She curled her arm tighter around his shoulders and let him pillow his head on her chest. "It means a lot of things, but it mostly means that I'll look out for you—above all else. It doesn't change who you are and what you're capable of, it only means that I will always stand with you and I will always have your best interests in mind." She sighed, softly. "Bonding is far more than a simple marriage. It is joining body, mind, magic—and soul, even, if we are fated to be soulmates. We are partners and equals, yes, but I have a responsibility and obligation, for which I am honor-bound, to see that you are well-cared for, happy, content and protected—even if it is from yourself."

Harry made a sound in his throat, his lips quirking into a frown. "You can't protect me from everything."

"Old Voldy-snorts?" Megan asked, her tone light. She would not speak his name. "No, perhaps not at this particular moment—but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't try and it doesn't mean that I couldn't, in time, be capable of doing such."

Harry's frown deepened and he lifted his head enough to look at her. "If you had enough magic to—to-"

"To be rid of him, why wouldn't I?"

He nodded.

"It's not that easy, Harry-love," Megan hummed. She relaxed her grip, so he could sit up a bit better and smiled when he cuddled back into her side. She tugged softly, lightly on the air currents swirling about them, testing to make sure that they would stay warmed and comfortable. "To use the kind of magic that would most likely do the worst damage—I would have to give something of myself that I probably would never ever receive back."

"Like what? A vow? Your magic?"

Her chuckle was slightly dark. "Oh no, nothing quite so mundane as that," she lifted her hand from his shoulder to tug gently on his ear. "I would only reach a point of absolute desperation to offer such a sacrifice if you were to land in such unmistakable danger. I would do so, knowing that if it worked, it would cost me. The price is not something I can speak of, certain spells have certain rules that accompany them."

"W-why would you know that kind of spell?"

"Because I'm an Alpha—and it's expected that someday, I would have a Submissive I wish to protect." Megan would have shrugged, but settled for a half-smile instead. "I don't expect you to understand that, Harry, but I also don't want us to start out with secrets between us. I know you might not like the thought of such a spell or what it entails, but that was set in motion long before I ever met you and I will not be changing it."

Harry scowled. He'd had enough of people dying for him and he didn't like that she spoke so causally about something that had claimed those who were close to him—Sirius, for one. "You'd use it even if I asked you not to?" He asked, bluntly.

Megan's eyebrows arched upwards. "You could ask," she said, slowly. "But the final decision would be up to me and it would depend on the situation. I would certainly keep your feelings in mind but-"

"Feelings?" Harry burst out. "Feelings don't have anything to do with this. If the spell will kill you, then don't use it! If it's going to split your soul in pieces, then don't use it." He snapped. "How difficult is that?"

"Difficult when the spell has been ingrained in the magic that flows through my veins since I was a child," Megan said, matter-of-factly. "Changing it will likely bring about the same effects as using it."

Harry paled. "That's-!"

Megan sighed. "Leave it alone for now. If it troubles you so much, I'll ask my mentor again, if there's anything that can be done to alter it, seeing that we are now Bonded and that can change the magical chemistry of an individual." She tugged gently on his ear again. "Now focus, was there anything else you wanted to ask?"

His hands curled into loose fists, but he managed to remain relaxed. "So even if I tell you that I don't want—something, anything—you can just override it?"

Grey eyes blinked at him in complete surprise and Megan's brow furrowed into three neat creases. "Alright," she said, slowly. "I think we'll have to start all the way at the beginning. I did not say that and I did not mean it either. The spell in question that we are no longer discussing, is known as my password, it requires a specific incantation and releases my entire magical potential—and any stored energy I might have elsewhere, seeing as I am dragel. It is a personal matter between myself and my mentor, because it signified the end of my tutelage beneath them, when I was able to craft the spell and cast it once, to test it. That has absolutely no bearing on how I will handle and respond to your requests, opinions and thoughts as your bonded Alpha."

There was a quiet snort and Harry looked away for a moment. The term Submissive, rankled slightly, just enough for him to cringe under the mental storm flooding his mind. He was not a _girl_ and he was not weak or subservient. He thought back to some of the things he'd read in Care of Magical Creatures, remembering also, a few snatched paragraphs in certain books, that spoke of Dominant-Submissive relationships and what was usually expected of the Submissive.

Megan's eyes narrowed. "Why are you really upset?"

Harry pulled away, feeling disgruntled now that the happy glow had faded. It felt silly and ridiculous to be lounging naked beneath the starry sky and having an argument about something he'd never even considered before. He did not move very far, before Megan pulled him back, drawing on her elemental gift to literally float him back into her arms. He growled, but did not speak.

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to the claim mark at the side of his neck.

He registered the meaning behind it a few seconds too late to react. A sudden, purposeful calmness washed over him, soothing his ruffled feelings and coaxing him to relax physically and mentally, stirring gently around his regenerating magic. He gave an unhappy chir, voicing his dislike for such handling, even as he leaned forward, torn between wanting to strain against her gentle hold and wishing he could stay there without feeling guilty about it.

In response, Megan simply turned her attentions to his shoulders and ears. She kissed, nibbled and licked all along the top of his shoulders and his ears, until a wave of tiredness washed over him. Reluctantly, he slumped in her arms, no longer actively fighting her hold. She rumbled in reassurance, the skin along her arms beginning to show the scales beneath them.

Eventually, Harry fell asleep to the feel of her cheek pressed against his head.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: "_The best revenge is living well." *Warnings in first chapter have been updated._  
><strong>

**Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the very kind response to the last chapter. Y'all are awesome. As a result, you're getting this chapter early ! I had time to spare and since this was light and fluffy, it pretty much wrote itself. How'd you like the bonding for those two? :D It's vague on purpose as per FF's contented guidelines, since I don't have this crossposted anywhere else at the moment. **

**Also, there's been a recent slew of irritating flames appearing in the reviews and some nasty stuff via PM. I am fairly tolerant and easy-going, until folks start poking at my personal life, which is, quite frankly, nobody's business but my own. That said, I figured I'd just update and bump this story up again so folks who want to read it, can find it. ;) So h****i and welcome to the new readers! I appreciate your support.**

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><p><strong>Just a reminder that TBDH: Straight is something that I'm writing for fun on behalf of a RL friend who requested this fic. She's a sweetheart and deserves to have something to cheer her up in life, so I agreed to write a straight version of TBDH, just for her. The warnings in the first chapter are there for a reason. Please review them, if you haven't already, so you know what you're reading and if you can't handle what I write, then click the back button and find something else. I'm not twisting your arm to read this.<strong>

**Have a good weekend!**

**-Scion**


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